A  GIRL  OFT 

ERLOST 


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THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


From  the  Library  of 
BENNEHAN  CAMERON 

1854-1925 

Presented  by 
his  daughters 

Isabel  C.  Van  Lennep 

and 

Sally  C.  Labouisse 


V       / 


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A   GIRL  OF  THE   LIMBERLOST 


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Books  by 
GENE    STRATTON-PORTER 

The  Song  of  the  Cardinal 

Freckles 

What  I  Have  Done  With  Birds 

At  the  Foot  of  the  Rainbow 

A  Girl  of  the  Limberlost 

Birds  of  the  Bible 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hil 


http://archive.org/details/girloflimberloststra 


"  Elnora  knelt  and,  slipping  her   fingers  through  the  leaves 

and  grasses  to  the  roots,  gathered  a  few  violets 

and  gave  them  to  Philip" 


Copyright,  1909,  by 

DOTJBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 


All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of 

translation  into  Foreign  Languages, 

including  the  Scandinavian 


THE  COUNTRY  LIFE   PRESS,  GARDEN  CITY,  N.  Y. 


TO 

ALL  GIRLS   OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

IN  GENERAL 

AND   ONE 

JEANETTE  HELEN   PORTER 

IN  PARTICULAR 


CONTENTS 


I.  Wherein  Elnora  Goes  to  High  School,  and 
Learns  Many  Lessons  not  Found  in 
Her  Books 3 

II.  Wherein  Wesley  and  Margaret  Go  Shop- 
ping, and  Elnora's  Wardrobe  Is  Re- 
plenished      27 

III.  Wherein  Elnora  Visits  the  Bird  Woman, 

and  Opens  a  Bank  Account  ...         40 

IV.  Wherein    the    Sintons    Are    Disappointed, 

and   Mrs.   Comstock  Learns  that  She 

Can  Laugh         ......         54 

V.     Wherein  Elnora  Receives  a  Warning  and 

Billy  Appears  on  the  Scene  ...         84 

VI.     Wherein     Mrs.     Comstock     Indulges     in 

"Frills,"  and  Billy  Reappears       .        .       IOI 

VII.  Wherein  Mrs.  Comstock  Manipulates 
Margaret,  and  Billy  Acquires  a  Resi- 
dence     124 

VIII.     Wherein   the  Limberlost  Tempts  Elnora, 

and  Billy  Buries  His  Father         .       .       158 


viii  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

CHAPTER  MGE 

IX.     Wherein  EInora  Discovers  a  Violin,  and 

Billy  Disciplines  Margaret    .        .        .        167 

X.  Wherein  EInora  Has  More  Financial 
Troubles,  and  Mrs.  Comstock  Again 
Hears  the  Song  of  the  Limber- 
lost      ...        .        .        .        .        .       185 

XI.     Wherein  EInora  Graduates,  and  Freckles 

and  the  Angel  Send   Gifts  .        .        209 

XII.  Wherein  Margaret  Sinton  Reveals  a 
Secret,  and  Mrs.  Comstock  Possesses 
the  Limberlost  .        .        .        .        .       229 

XIII.  WTierein   Mother   Love    Is    Bestowed   on 

EInora,  and  She  Finds  an  Assistant  in 
Moth  Hunting         .        ....        .       261 

XIV.  Wherein    a    New    Position    Is    Tendered 

EInora,  and  Philip  Ammon  Is  Shown 
Limberlost  Violets  .        .        .        .       281 

XV.  Wherein  Mrs.  Comstock  Faces  the  Al- 
mighty, and  Philip  Ammon  Writes  a 
Letter         .        .        .        .        .        .        .       296 

XVI.  Wherein  the  Limberlost  Sings  for  Am- 
mon, and  the  Talking  Trees  Tell 
Great  Secrets 314 

XVII.  Wherein  Mrs.  Comstock  Dances  in  the 
Moonlight,  and  EInora  Makes  a 
Confession 328 


CONTENTS  ix 


XVIII.  Wherein  Mrs.  Comstock  Experiments 
with  Rejuvenation,  and  Elnora 
Teaches  Natural  History    .        .        .       347 

XIX.  Wherein  Philip  Amnion  Gives  a  Ball  in 
Honour  of  Edith  Carr,  and  Hart 
Henderson  Appears  on  the  Scene    .       360 

XX.  Wherein  the  Elder  Ammon  Offers  Ad- 
vice, and  Edith  Carr  Experiences 
Regrets 377 

XXI.  Wherein  Philip  Ammon  Returns  to  the 
Limberlost,  and  Elnora  Studies  the 
Situation 388 

XXII .  Wherein  Philip  Ammon  Kneels  to  the 

Queen  of  Love,  and  Chicago  Comes 

to  the  Limberlost        ....        408 

XXIII.  Wherein  Elnora  Reaches  a  Decision,  and 

Freckles  and  the  Angel  Appear       .       430 

XXIV.  Wherein    Edith    Carr    Wages    a    Battle 

and  Hart  Henderson  Stands  Guard   .       445 

XXV.     Wherein  Philip  Finds  Elnora,  and  Edith 

Carr  Offers  a  Yellow  Emperor         .       460 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"Elnora  knelt  and,  slipping  her  fingers  through 
the  leaves  and  grasses  to  the  roots,  gathered  a 
few  violets  and  gave  them  to  Philip  "  Frontispiece 

FACING  FAGS 

"'If  you  had  known  about  wonders  like  these  in 
the  days  of  your  youth,  Robert  Comstock, 
could  you  ever  have  done  the  thing  you  did?'"  .       304 

"With  her  lips  near  Elnora's  ear,  Polly  whispered, 

'Sister!    Dear,  dear  sister!'" 416 

"'Edith,   what  did  you   say  to  Miss   Comstock, 

that  made  her  run  away  from  Phil  ?'" .       .       .       448 


CHARACTERS 

Elnora,  who  collects  moths  to  pay  for  her  education,  and 
lives  the  Golden  Rule. 

Philip  Ammon,  who  assists  in  moth  hunting,  and  gains 
a  new  conception  of  love. 

Mrs.  Comstock,  who  lost  a  delusion  and  found  a  treasure. 

Wesley  Sinton,  who  always  did  his  best. 

Margaret  Sinton,  who  "mothers"  Elnora. 

Billy,  a  boy  from  real  life. 

Edith  Carr,  who  discovers  herself. 

Hart  Henderson,  to  whom  love  means  all  things. 

Polly  Ammon,  who  pays  an  old  score. 

Tom  Levering,  engaged  to  Polly. 

Terrence  O'More,  Freckles  grown  tall. 

Mrs.  O'More,  who  remained  the  Angel. 

Terrence,  Alice   and  Little  Brother,   the   O'More 
children. 


A  GIRL  OF  THE   LIMBERLOST 


A  Girl  of  the  Limberlost 

CHAPTER  I 

Wherein  Elnora  Goes  to  High  School  and  Learns 
Many  Lessons  Not  Found  in  Her  Books 

ELNORA    COMSTOCK,     have     you     lost     your 
senses?"  demanded  the  angry  voice  of  Katharine 
Comstock  as  she  glared  at  her  daughter. 
"Why,  mother?"  faltered  the  girl. 
"Don't  you  'why  mother'  me!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"You  know  very  well  what  I  mean.     You've  given  me  no 
peace  until  you've  had  your  way  about  this  going  to 
school  business;  I've  fixed  you  good  enough,  and  you're 
ready  to  start.     But  no  child  of  mine  walks  the  streets  of 
Onabasha  looking  like  a  play-actress  woman.     You  wet 
your  hair  and  comb  it  down  modest  and  decent  and  then 
be  off,  or  you'll  have  no  time  to  find  where  you  belong." 
Elnora  gave  one  despairing  glance  at  the  white  face, 
framed  in  a  most  becoming  riot  of  reddish-brown  hair, 
which  she  saw  in  the  little  kitchen  mirror.     Then  she  un- 
tied the  narrow  black  ribbon,  wet  the  comb  and  plastered 
the  waving  curls  close  to  her  head,  bound  them  fast,  pinned 
on  the  skimpy  black  hat  and  started  for  the  back  door. 

3 


4  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"You've  gone  so  plum  daffy  you  are  forgetting  your 
dinner,"  jeered  her  mother. 

"I  don't  want  anything  to  eat,"  replied  Elnora  without 
stopping. 

"You'll  take  your  dinner  or  you'll  not  go  one  step.  Are 
you  crazy?  Walk  nearly  three  miles  and  no  food  from  six 
in  the  morning  until  six  at  night.  A  pretty  figure  you'd 
cut  if  you  had  your  way  about  things!  And  after  I've 
gone  and  bought  you  this  nice  new  pail  and  filled  it 
especial  for  the  first  day!" 

Elnora  came  back  with  a  face  still  whiter  and  picked  up 
the  lunch.  "Thank  you,  mother!  Good-bye!"  she  said. 
Mrs.  Comstock  did  not  reply.  She  watched  the  girl  down 
the  long  walk  to  the  gate  and  out  of  sight  on  the  road  in  the 
bright  sunshine  of  the  first  Monday  of  September. 

"I  bet  a  dollar  she  gets  enough  of  it  by  night!"  Mrs. 
Comstock  said  positively. 

Elnora  walked  by  instinct,  for  her  eyes  were  blinded  with 
tears.  She  left  the  road  where  it  turned  south  at  the  cor- 
ner of  the  Limberlost,  climbed  a  snake  fence  and  entered 
a  path  worn  by  her  own  feet.  Dodging  under  willow  and 
scrub  oak  branches  she  at  last  came  to  the  faint  outline  of 
an  old  trail  made  in  the  days  when  the  precious  timber  of 
the  swamp  was  guarded  by  armed  men.  This  path  she 
followed  until  she  reached  a  thick  clump  of  bushes.  From 
the  debris  in  the  end  of  a  hollow  log  she  took  a  key  that 
unlocked  the  padlock  of  a  large  weatherbeaten  old  box, 
inside  of  which  lay  several  books,  a  butterfly  apparatus, 
and  an  old  cracked  mirror.     The  walls  were  lined  thickly 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL    5 

with  gaudy  butterflies,  dragon-flies,  and  moths.  She  set 
up  the  mirror,  and  once  more  pulling  the  ribbon  from  her 
hair,  she  shook  the  bright  mass  over  her  shoulders,  tossing 
it  dry  in  the  sunshine.  Then  she  straightened  it,  bound 
it  loosely,  and  replaced  her  hat.  She  tugged  vainly  at 
the  low  brown  calico  collar  and  gazed  despairingly  at 
the  generous  length  of  the  narrow  skirt.  She  lifted  it  as 
she  would  have  liked  it  to  be  cut  if  possible.  That  dis- 
closed the  heavy  leather  high  shoes,  at  sight  of  which  she 
looked  positively  ill,  and  hastily  dropped  the  skirt.  She 
opened  the  pail,  took  out  the  lunch,  wrapped  it  in  the 
napkin,  and  placed  it  in  a  small  pasteboard  box.  Locking 
the  case  again,  she  hid  the  key  and  hurried  down  the  trail. 

She  followed  it  around  the  north  end  of  the  swamp  and 
then  struck  into  a  footpath  crossing  a  farm  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  spires  of  the  city  to  the  northeast.  Again  she 
climbed  a  fence  and  was  on  the  open  road.  For  an  in- 
stant she  leaned  against  the  fence,  staring  before  her,  then 
turned  and  looked  back.  Behind  her  lay  the  land  on 
which  she  had  been  born  to  drudgery  and  a  mother  who 
made  no  pretence  of  loving  her;  before  her  lay  the  city 
through  whose  schools  she  hoped  to  find  means  of  escape 
and  the  way  to  reach  the  things  for  which  she  cared. 
When  she  thought  of  how  she  looked  she  leaned  more 
heavily  against  the  fence  and  groaned;  when  she  thought 
of  turning  back  and  wearing  such  clothing  in  ignorance 
all  the  days  of  her  life,  she  set  her  teeth  firmly  and 
went  hastily  toward  Onabasha. 

At  the  bridge  crossing  a  deep  culvert  at  the  suburbs  she 


6  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

glanced  around,  and  then  kneeling  she  thrust  the  lunch 
box  between  the  foundation  and  the  flooring.  This  left 
her  empty-handed  as  she  approached  the  great  stone 
high  school  building.  She  entered  bravely  and  inquired 
her  way  to  the  office  of  the  superintendent.  There  she 
learned  that  she  should  have  come  the  week  before  and 
arranged  for  her  classes.  There  were  many  things  inci- 
dent to  the  opening  of  school,  and  one  man  unable  to  cope 
with  all  of  them. 

"Where  have  you  been  attending  school?"  he  asked,  as 
he  advised  the  teacher  of  the  cooking  department  not  to 
telephone  for  groceries  until  she  saw  how  many  she  would 
have  in  her  classes;  wrote  an  order  for  chemicals  for  the 
students  of  science;  and  advised  the  leader  of  the  orches- 
tra to  try  to  get  a  professional  to  take  the  place  of  the  bass 
violist,  reported  suddenly  ill. 

"I  finished  last  spring  at  Brushwood  school,  district 
number  nine,"  said  Elnora.  "I  have  been  studying  all 
summer.  I  am  quite  sure  I  can  do  the  first  year  work,  if 
I  have  a  few  days  to  get  started." 

"Of  course,  of  course,"  assented  the  superintendent. 
"Almost  invariably  country  pupils  do  good  work.  You 
may  enter  first  year,  and  if  you  don't  fit,  we  will  find  it  out 
Speedily.  Your  teachers  will  tell  you  the  list  of  books 
you  must  have,  and  if  you  will  come  with  me  I  will  show 
you  the  way  to  the  auditorium.  It  is  now  time  for  open- 
ing exercises.  Take  any  seat  you  find  vacant. "  He  was 
gone. 

Elnora  stood  before  the  entrance  and  stared  into  the 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL     7 

largest  room  she  ever  had  seen.  The  floor  sloped  down 
to  a  yawning  stage  on  which  a  band  of  musicians,  grouped 
around  a  grand  piano,  were  tuning  their  instruments. 
She  had  two  fleeting  impressions.  That  it  was  all  a 
mistake;  this  was  no  school,  but  a  grand  display  of  enor- 
mous ribbon  bows;  and  the  second,  that  she  was  sinking, 
and  had  forgotten  how  to  walk.  Then  a  burst  from  the 
orchestra  nerved  her  while  a  bevy  of  daintily  clad,  sweet- 
smelling  things  that  might  have  been  birds,  or  flowers, 
or  possibly  gaily  dressed,  happy  young  girls,  pushed  her 
forward.  She  found  herself  plodding  across  the  back  of 
the  auditorium,  praying  for  guidance,  to  an  empty  seat. 

As  the  girls  passed  her,  vacancies  seemed  to  open  to 
meet  them.  Their  friends  were  moving  over,  beckoning 
and  whispering  invitations.  Every  one  else  was  seated, 
but  no  one  paid  any  attention  to  the  white-faced  girl 
stumbling  half-blindly  down  the  aisle  next  the  farthest 
wall.  So  she  went  on  to  the  very  end  facing  the  stage. 
No  one  moved,  and  she  could  not  summon  courage  to 
crowd  past  others  to  several  empty  seats  she  saw.  At 
the  end  of  the  aisle  she  paused  in  desperation,  as  she 
stared  back  at  the  whole  forest  of  faces  most  of  which 
were  now  turned  upon  her. 

In  one  burning  flash  came  the  full  realization  of  her 
scanty  dress,  her  pitiful  little  hat  and  ribbon,  her  big, 
heavy  shoes,  her  ignorance  of  where  to  go  or  what  to  do; 
and  from  a  sickening  wave  which  crept  over  her,  she  felt 
she  was  going  to  become  very  ill.  Then  out  of  the  mass 
she  saw  a  pair  of  big,  brown  boy  eyes,  three  seats  from 


8  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

her,  and  there  was  a  message  in  them.  Without  moving 
his  body  he  reached  forward  and  with  a  pencil  touched 
the  back  of  the  seat  before  him.  Instantly  Elnora  took 
another  step  which  brought  her  to  a  row  of  vacant  front 
seats. 

She  heard  the  giggle  behind  her;  the  knowledge  that 
she  wore  the  only  hat  in  the  room,  burned  her;  every 
matter  of  moment,  and  some  of  none  at  all,  cut  and  stung. 
She  had  no  books.  Where  should  she  go  when  this  was 
over  ?  What  would  she  give  to  be  on  the  trail  going  home ! 
She  was  shaking  with  a  nervous  chill  when  the  music 
ceased,  and  the  superintendent  arose  and,  coming  down 
to  the  front  of  the  flower-decked  platform,  opened  a  Bible 
and  began  to  read.  Elnora  did  not  know  what  he  was 
reading,  and  she  felt  that  she  did  not  care.  Wildly  she 
was  racking  her  brain  to  decide  whether  she  should  sit 
still  when  the  rest  left  the  room  or  follow,  and  ask  some 
one  where  the  Freshmen  went  first. 

In  the  midst  of  the  struggle  one  clean-cut  sentence  fell 
on  her  ear.     "Hide  me  under  the  shadow  of  Thy  wings." 

Elnora  began  to  pray  frantically.  "Hide  me,  O  God, 
hide  me,  under  the  shadow  of  Thy  wings. " 

Again  and  again  she  implored  that  prayer,  and  before 
she  realized  what  was  coming,  every  one  had  risen  and  the 
room  was  emptying  rapidly.  Elnora  hurried  after  the 
nearest  girl  and  in  the  press  at  the  door  touched  her  sleeve 
timidly. 

"Will  you  please  tell  me  where  the  Freshmen  go?"  she 
asked  huskily. 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL     9 

The  girl  gave  her  one  surprised  glance,  and  drew  away. 

"Same  place  as  the  fresh  women,"  she  answered,  and 
those  nearest  her  laughed. 

Elnora  stopped  praying  suddenly  and  the  colour  swept 
into  her  face.  "  I'll  wager  you  are  the  first  person  I  meet 
when  I  find  it,"  she  said  and  stopped  short.  "Not  that! 
Oh,  I  must  not  do  that!"  she  thought  in  dismay.  "Make 
an  enemy  the  first  thing  I  do.     Oh,  not  that!" 

She  followed  with  her  eyes  as  the  young  people  sepa- 
rated in  the  hall,  some  climbing  stairs,  some  disappearing 
down  side  halls,  some  entering  doors  nearby.  She  saw 
the  girl  overtake  the  brown-eyed  boy  and  speak  to  him, 
and  he  glanced  back  at  Elnora  and  now  there  was  a  scowl 
on  his  face.     Then  she  stood  alone  in  the  hall. 

Presently  a  door  opened  and  a  young  woman  came  out 
and  entered  another  room.  Elnora  waited  until  she  re- 
turned, and  hurried  to  her.  "Would  you  tell  me  where 
the  Freshmen  are?"  she  panted. 

"Straight  down  the  hall,  three  doors  to  your  left,"  was 
the  answer,  as  the  girl  passed. 

"One  minute  please,  oh,  please, "  begged  Elnora.  "Do 
I  knock  or  just  open  the  door?" 

"Go  in  and  take  a  seat,"  replied  the  teacher. 

"What  if  there  aren't  any  seats?"  gasped  Elnora. 

"Classrooms  are  never  half-filled,  there  will  be  plenty," 
was  the  answer. 

Elnora  removed  her  hat.  There  was  no  place  to  put 
it,  so  she  carried  it  in  her  hand.  She  looked  infinitely 
better  without  it.     After  several  efforts  she  at  last  opened 


io  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

the  door  and  stepping  inside  faced  a  smaller  and  more  con- 
centrated battery  of  eyes. 

"The  superintendent  sent  me.  He  thinks  I  belong 
here,"  she  said  to  the  professor  in  charge  of  the  class,  but 
she  never  before  heard  the  voice  with  which  she  spoke. 
As  she  stood  waiting,  the  girl  of  the  hall  passed  on  her 
way  to  the  blackboard,  and  suppressed  laughter  told 
Elnora  that  her  thrust  had  been  repeated. 

"Be  seated,"  said  the  professor,  and  then  because  he 
saw  Elnora  was  desperately  embarrassed  he  proceeded  to 
loan  her  a  book  and  to  ask  her  if  she  had  studied  algebra. 
She  said  she  had  a  little,  but  not  the  same  book  they  were 
using.  He  asked  her  if  she  felt  that  she  could  do  the  work 
they  were  beginning,  and  she  said  she  did. 

That  was  how  it  happened,  that  three  minutes  after 
entering  the  room  she  was  compelled  to  take  her  place 
beside  the  girl  who  had  gone  last  to  the  board,  and  whose 
flushed  face  and  angry  eyes  avoided  meeting  Elnora's. 
Being  compelled  to  concentrate  on  her  proposition  she 
forgot  herself.  When  the  professor  asked  that  all  pupils 
sign  their  work  she  firmly  wrote  "Elnora  Comstock" 
under  her  demonstration.  Then  she  took  her  seat  and 
waited  with  white  lips  and  trembling  limbs,  as  one  after 
another  the  professor  called  the  names  on  the  board,  while 
their  owners  arose  and  explained  their  propositions,  or 
flunked  if  they  had  not  found  a  correct  solution.  She 
was  so  eager  to  catch  their  forms  of  expression  and 
prepare  herself  for  her  recitation,  that  she  never 
took  her  eyes  from  the  work  on  the  board,  until  clear- 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL    n 

ly  and  distinctly,  "Elnora  Cornstock,"  called  the  pro- 
fessor. 

The  dazed  girl  stared  at  the  board.  One  tiny  curl 
added  to  the  top  of  the  first  curve  of  the  m  in  her  name 
had  transformed  it  from  a  good  old  English  patronymic 
that  any  girl  might  bear  proudly,  to  Cornstock.  Elnora 
stared  speechless.  When  and  how  did  it  happen?  She 
could  feel  the  wave  of  smothered  laughter  in  the  air 
around  her.  A  rush  of  anger  turned  her  face  scarlet  and 
her  soul  sick.  A  hot  answer  was  on  her  lips.  The  voice 
of  the  professor  addressed  her  straightly. 

"This  proposition  seems  to  be  beautifully  demonstrated, 
Miss  Cornstalk, "  he  said.  "  Surely,  you  can  tell  us  how 
you  did  it." 

That  word  of  praise  saved  her.  She  could  do  good 
work.  They  might  wear  their  pretty  clothes,  have  their 
friends  and  make  life  a  greater  misery  than  it  ever  before 
had  been  for  her,  but  not  one  of  them  should  do  better 
work  or  be  more  womanly.  That  lay  with  her.  She  was 
tall,  straight,  and  handsome  as  she  arose. 

"Of  course,  I  can  explain  my  work, "  she  said  in  natural 
tones.  "What  I  can't  explain  is  how  I  happened  to  be  so 
stupid  as  to  make  a  mistake  in  writing  my  own  name.  I 
must  have  been  a  little  nervous.     Please,  excuse  me." 

She  went  to  the  board,  swept  off  the  signature  with 
one  stroke,  then  without  a  tremor  she  rewrote  it  clearly. 
"My  name  is  Cornstock,"  she  said  distinctly.  She  re- 
turned to  her  seat  and  following  the  formula  used  by  the 
others  made  her  first  high  school  recitation. 


12  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

The  face  of  Professor  Henley  was  a  study.  As  Elnora 
took  her  seat  he  looked  at  her  steadily.  "It  puzzles 
me,"  he  said  deliberately,  "how  you  can  write  as  beau- 
tiful a  demonstration,  and  explain  it  as  clearly  as  ever  has 
been  done  in  any  of  my  classes,  and  still  be  so  disturbed 
as  to  make  a  mistake  in  your  own  name.  Are  you  very 
sure  you  did  that  yourself,  Miss  Comstock?" 

"It  is  impossible  that  any  one  else  should  have  done 
it,"  answered  Elnora  steadily. 

"I  am  very  glad  you  think  so,"  said  the  professor. 
"Being  Freshmen,  all  of  you  are  strangers  to  me.  I 
should  hate  to  begin  the  year  with  you  feeling  there  was 
one  among  you  small  enough  to  do  a  trick  like  that.  The 
next  proposition,  please. " 

When  the  hour  was  gone  the  class  filed  back  to  the 
study  room  and  Elnora  followed  in  desperation,  because 
she  did  not  know  where  else  to  go.  She  could  not  study, 
as  she  had  no  books,  and  when  the  class  again  left  the 
room  to  go  to  another  professor  for  the  next  recitation, 
she  went  also.  At  least  they  could  put  her  out  if  she  did 
not  belong  there.  Noon  came  at  last,  and  she  kept  with 
the  others  until  they  dispersed  on  the  sidewalk.  She  was 
so  abnormally  self-conscious  she  fancied  all  the  hundreds 
of  that  laughing  throng  saw  and  jested  at  her.  When  she 
passed  the  brown-eyed  boy  walking  with  the  girl  of  her 
encounter  she  knew,  for  she  heard  him  say,  "Did  you 
really  let  that  gawky  piece  of  calico  get  ahead  of  you?" 
The  answer  was  indistinct. 

Elnora  hurried  from  the  city.     She  intended  to  get  her 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL  13 

lunch,  eat  it  in  the  shade  of  the  first  tree,  and  then  decide 
whether  she  would  go  back  or  go  home.  She  knelt  on 
the  bridge  and  reached  for  her  box,  but  it  was  so  very  light 
that  she  was  prepared  for  the  fact  that  it  was  empty  before 
opening  it.  There  was  just  one  thing  for  which  to  be 
thankful.  The  boy  or  tramp  who  had  seen  her  hide  it, 
had  left  the  napkin.  She  would  not  have  to  face  her 
mother  and  account  for  its  loss.  She  put  it  in  her  pocket, 
and  threw  the  box  into  the  ditch.  Then  she  sat  on  the 
bridge  and  tried  to  think,  but  her  brain  was  confused. 

"Perhaps  the  worst  is  over,"  she  said  at  last.  "I  will 
go  back.  What  would  mother  say  to  me  if  I  came  home 
now?" 

So  she  returned  to  the  high  school,  followed  some  other 
pupils  to  the  coat  room,  hung  her  hat,  and  found  her  way 
to  the  study  where  she  had  been  in  the  morning.  Twice 
that  afternoon,  with  aching  head  and  empty  stomach,  she 
faced  strange  professors,  in  different  branches.  Once  she 
escaped  notice,  the  second  time  the  worst  happened.  She 
was  asked  a  question  she  could  not  answer. 

"Have  you  not  decided  on  your  course,  and  secured 
your  books?"  inquired  the  professor. 

"I  have  decided  on  my  course,"  replied  Elnora,  "I  do 
not  know  who  to  ask  for  my  books. " 

"Ask?"  the  professor  was  bewildered. 

"I  understood  the  books  were  furnished,"  faltered  El- 
nora. 

"Only  to  those  bringing  an  order  from  the  township 
trustee,"  replied  the  professor. 


i4  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"No!  Oh,  no!"  cried  Elnora.  "I  will  get  them  to- 
morrow, "  and  gripped  her  desk  for  support,  for  she  knew 
that  was  not  true.  Four  books,  ranging  perhaps  at  a 
dollar  and  a  half  apiece;  would  her  mother  get  them?  Of 
course  she  would  not  —  could  not. 

Did  not  Elnora  know  the  story  by  heart.  There  was 
enough  land,  but  no  one  to  do  clearing  and  farm.  Tax 
on  all  those  acres,  recently  the  new  gravel  road  tax  added, 
the  expense  of  living  and  only  the  work  of  two  women  to 
meet  all  of  it.  She  was  insane  to  think  she  could  come  to 
the  city  to  school.  Her  mother  had  been  right.  The 
girl  decided  that  if  only  she  lived  to  get  home,  she  would 
stay  there  and  lead  any  sort  of  life  to  avoid  more  of  this 
torture.  Bad  as  what  she  wished  to  escape  had  been,  it 
was  nothing  like  this.  She  never  could  live  down  the 
movement  that  went  through  the  class  when  she  inadver- 
tently revealed  the  fact  that  she  had  expected  her  books 
to  be  furnished.  Her  mother  would  not  get  them;  that 
settled  the  question. 

But  the  end  of  misery  -is  never  in  a  hurry  to  come,  for 
before  the  day  was  over  the  superintendent  entered  the 
room  and  explained  that  pupils  from  the  country  were 
charged  a  tuition  of  twenty  dollars  a  year.  That  really 
was  the  end.  Previously  Elnora  had  canvassed  a  dozen 
wild  plans  for  securing  the  money  for  books,  ranging  all 
the  way  from  offering  to  wash  the  superintendent's  dishes 
to  breaking  into  the  bank.  This  additional  expense  made 
the  thing  so  wildly  impossible,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but 
hold  up  her  head  until  she  was  out  of  sight. 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL  15 

Down  the  long  corridor  alone  among  hundreds,  down 
the  long  street  alone  among  thousands,  out  into  the  coun- 
try she  came  at  last.  Across  the  fence  and  field,  along  the 
old  trail  once  trodden  by  a  boy's  bitter  agony,  now  stum- 
bled a  white-faced  girl,  sick  at  heart.  She  sat  on  a  log 
and  began  to  sob  in  spite  of  her  efforts  at  self-control.  At 
first  it  was  physical  breakdown,  later,  thought  came 
crowding. 

Oh,  the  shame,  the  mortification!  Why  had  she  not 
known  of  the  tuition?  How  did  she  happen  to  think  that 
in  the  city  books  were  furnished?  Perhaps  it  was  be- 
cause she  had  read  they  were  in  several  states.  But  why 
did  she  not  know?  Why  did  not  her  mother  go  with  her? 
Other  mothers  —  but  when  had  her  mother  ever  been  or 
done  anything  at  all  like  other  mothers?  Because  she 
never  had  been  it  was  useless  to  blame  her  now.  Elnora 
felt  she  should  have  gone  to  town  the  week  before,  called 
on  some  one  and  learned  all  these  things  herself.  She 
should  have  remembered  how  her  clothing  would  look, 
before  she  wore  it  in  public  places.  Now  she  knew,  and 
her  dreams  were  over.  She  must  go  home  to  feed  chick- 
ens, calves,  and  pigs,  wear  calico  and  coarse  shoes,  and 
pass  a  library  with  averted  head  all  her  life.  She 
sobbed   again. 

"For  pity's  sake,  honey,  what's  the  matter?"  asked  the 
voice  of  the  nearest  neighbour,  Wesley  Sinton,  as  he 
seated  himself  by  Elnora.  "There,  there,"  he  continued, 
smearing  tears  all  over  her  face  in  an  effort  to  dry  them. 
"Was  it  so  bad  as  that,  now?     Maggie  has  been  just 


16  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

about  wild  over  you  all  day.  She's  got  nervouser  every 
minute.  She  said  we  were  foolish  to  let  you  go.  She 
said  your  clothes  were  not  right,  you  ought  not  to  carry 
that  tin  pail,  and  that  they  would  laugh  at  you.  By  gum, 
I  see  they  did!" 

"Oh,  Uncle  Wesley,"  sobbed  the  girl,  "why  didn't  she 
tell  me?" 

"Well,  you  see,  Elnora,  she  didn't  like  to.  You  got 
such  a  way  of  holding  up  your  head,  and  going  through 
with  things.  She  thought  someway  that  you'd  make  it, 
till  you  got  started,  and  then  she  begun  to  see  a  hundred 
things  we  should  have  done.  I  reckon  you  hadn't  reached 
that  building  before  she  remembered  that  your  skirt  should 
have  been  pleated  instead  of  gathered,  your  shoes  been 
low,  and  lighter  for  hot  September  weather,  and  a  new 
hat.     Were  your  things  right,  Elnora?" 

The  girl  broke  into  hysterical  laughter.  "Right!"  she 
cried.  "Right!  Uncle  Wesley,  you  should  have  seen  me 
among  them!  I  was  a  picture!  They'll  never  forget  me. 
No,  they  won't  get  the  chance,  for  they'll  see  the  same 
things  to-morrow!" 

"Now,  that  is  what  I  call  spunk,  Elnora!  Downright 
grit,"  said  Wesley  Sinton.  "Don't  you  let  them  laugh 
you  out.  You've  helped  Margaret  and  me  for  years  at 
harvest  and  busy  times;  what  you've  earned  must  amount 
to  quite  a  sum.  You  can  get  yourself  a  good  many  clothes 
with  it." 

"Don't  mention  clothes,  Uncle  Wesley,"  sobbed  Elnora. 
"I  don't  care  now  how  I  look.     If  I  don't  go  back  all  of 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL    17 

them  will  know  it's  because  I  am  so  poor  I  can't  buy  my 
books." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  as  you  are  so  dratted  poor,"  said 
Sinton  meditatively.  "There  are  three  hundred  acres  of 
good  land,  with  fine  timber  as  ever  grew  on  it." 

"It  takes  all  we  can  earn  to  pay  the  tax,  and  mother 
wouldn't  cut  a  tree  for  her  life." 

"Well,  then,  maybe,  I'll  be  compelled  to  cut  one  for 
her,"  suggested  Sinton.  "Anyway,  stop  tearing  yourself 
to  pieces  and  tell  me.     If  it  isn't  clothes,  what  is  it?" 

"It's  books  and  tuition.     Over  twenty  dollars  in  all." 

"Humph!  First  time  I  ever  knew  you  to  be  stumped 
by  twenty  dollars,  Elnora,"  said  Sinton,  patting  her  hand. 

"It's  the  first  time  you  ever  knew  me  to  want  money," 
answered  Elnora.  "This  is  different  from  anything  that 
ever  happened  to  me.  Oh,  how  can  I  get  it,  Uncle 
Wesley?" 

"Drive  to  town  with  me  in  the  morning  and  I'll  draw  it 
from  the  bank  for  you.     I  owe  you  every  cent  of  it." 

"You  know  you  don't  owe  me  a  penny,  and  I  wouldn't 
touch  one  from  you,  unless  I  really  could  earn  it.  For 
anything  that's  past  I  owe  you  and  Aunt  Margaret  for  all 
the  home  life  and  love  I've  ever  known.  I  know  how 
you  work,  and  I'll  not  take  your  money." 

"Just  a  loan,  Elnora,  just  a  loan  for  a  little  while  until 
you  can  earn  it.  You  can  be  proud  with  all  the  rest  of 
the  world,  but  there's  no  secrets  between  us,  is  there, 
Elnora?" 

"No,"  said  Elnora,  "there  are  none.     You  and  Aunt 


i8  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Margaret  have  given  me  all  the  love  there  has  been  in  my 
life.  That  is  the  one  reason  above  all  others  why  you  shall 
not  give  me  charity.  Hand  me  money  because  you  find 
me  crying  for  it!  This  isn't  the  first  time  this  old  trail 
has  known  tears  and  heartache.  All  of  us  know  that 
story.  Freckles  stuck  to  what  he  undertook  and  won  out. 
I  stick,  too.  When  Duncan  moved  away  he  gave  me  all 
Freckles  left  in  the  swamp,  and  as  I  have  inherited  his 
property  maybe  his  luck  will  come  with  it.  I  won't 
touch  your  money,  but  I'll  win  some  way.  First,  I'm 
going  home  and  try  mother.  It's  just  possible  I  could 
find  second-hand  books,  and  perhaps  all  the  tuition  need 
not  be  paid  at  once.  Maybe  they  would  accept  it  quar- 
terly. But,  oh,  Uncle  Wesley,  you  and  Aunt  Margaret 
keep  on  loving  me!     I'm  so  lonely,  and  no  one  else  cares!" 

Wesley  Sinton's  jaws  met  with  a  click.  He  swallowed 
hard  on  bitter  words  and  changed  the  thing  he  would  have 
said  three  times  before  it  became  articulate. 

"Elnora,"  he  said  at  last,  "if  it  hadn't  been  for  one 
thing  I'd  have  tried  to  take  legal  steps  to  make  you  ours 
when  you  were  three  years  old.  Maggie  said  then  it 
wasn't  any  use,  but  I've  always  held  on.  You  see,  I  was 
the  first  man  there,  honey,  and  there  are  things  you  see, 
that  you  can't  ever  make  anybody  else  understand.  She 
loved  him,  Elnora,  she  just  made  an  idol  of  him.  There 
was  that  oozy  green  hole,  with  the  thick  scum  broke,  and 
two  or  three  big  bubbles  slowly  rising  that  were  the  breath 
of  his  body.  There  she  was  in  spasms  of  agony,  and  be- 
side her  the  great  heavy  log  she'd  tried  to  throw  him.     I 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL    19 

can't  ever  forgive  her  for  turning  against  you,  and  spoiling 
your  childhood  as  she  has,  but  I  couldn't  forgive  anybody 
else  for  abusing  her.  Maggie  has  got  no  mercy  on  her, 
but  Maggie  didn't  see  what  I  did,  and  I've  never  tried  to 
make  it  very  clear  to  her.  It's  been  a  little  too  plain  for 
me  ever  since.  Whenever  I  look  at  your  mother's  face,  I 
see  what  she  saw,  so  I  hold  my  tongue  and  say,  in  my  heart, 
'Give  her  a  mite  more  time.'  Some  day  it  will  come. 
She  does  love  you,  Elnora.  Everybody  does,  honey. 
It's  just  that  she's  feeling  so  much,  she  can't  express  her- 
self. You  be  a  patient  girl  and  wait  a  little  longer.  After 
all,  she's  your  mother,  and  you're  all  she's  got,  bu  t  a  mem- 
ory, and  it  might  do  her  good  to  let  her  know  that  she  was 
fooled  in  that." 

"It  would  kill  her!"  cried  the  girl  swiftly.  "Uncle 
Wesley,  it  would  kill  her!     What  do  you  mean?" 

"Nothing,"  said  Wesley  Sinton  soothingly.  "Nothing, 
honey.  That  was  just  one  of  them  fool  things  a  man  says, 
when  he  is  trying  his  best  to  be  wise.  You  see,  she  loved 
him  mightily,  and  they'd  been  married  only  a  year,  and 
what  she  was  loving  was  what  she  thought  he  was.  She 
hadn't  really  got  acquainted  with  the  man  yet.  If  it  had 
been  even  one  more  year,  she  could  have  borne  it,  and 
you'd  have  got  justice.  Having  been  a  teacher  she  was 
better  educated  and  smarter  than  the  rest  of  us,  and  so 
she  was  more  sensitive  like.  She  can't  understand  she 
was  loving  a  dream.  So  I  say  it  might  do  her  good  if 
somebody  that  knew  could  tell  her,  but  I  swear  to  gra- 
cious, I  never  could.     I've  heard  her  out  at  the  edge  of 


20  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

that  quagmire  calling  in  them  wild  spells  of  hers  off 
and  on  for  the  last  sixteen  years,  and  imploring  the  swamp 
to  give  him  back  to  her,  and  I've  got  out  of  bed  when  I  was 
pretty  tired,  and  come  down  to  see  she  didn't  go  in  herself, 
or  harm  you.  What  she  feels  is  too  deep  for  me.  I've 
got  to  respectin'  her  grief,  and  I  can't  get  over  it.  Go 
home  and  tell  your  ma,  honey,  and  ask  her  nice  and  kind 
to  help  you.  If  she  won't,  then  you  got  to  swallow  that 
little  lump  of  pride  in  your  neck,  and  come  to  Aunt  Mag- 
gie, like  you  been  a-coming  all  your  life." 

"I'll  ask  mother,  but  I  can't  take  your  money,  Uncle 
Wesley;  indeed  I  can't.  I'll  wait  a  year,  and  earn  some, 
and  enter  next  year." 

"There's  one  thing  you  don't  consider,  Elnora,"  said 
the  man  earnestly.  "And  that's  what  you  are  to  Mag- 
gie. She's  a  little  like  your  ma.  She  hasn't  given  up  to 
it,  and  she's  struggling  on  brave,  but  when  we  buried  our 
second  little  girl  the  light  went  out  of  Maggie's  eyes,  and 
it's  not  come  back.  The  only  time  I  ever  see  a  hint  of  it 
is  when  she  thinks  she's  done  something  that  makes  you 
happy,  Elnora.  Now,  you  go  easy  about  refusing  her 
anything  she  wants  to  do  for  you.  There's  times  in  this 
world  when  it's  our  bounden  duty  to  forget  ourselves,  and 
think  what  will  help  other  people.  Young  woman,  you 
owe  me  and  Maggie  all  the  comfort  we  can  get  out  of  you. 
There's  the  two  of  our  own  we  can't  ever  do  anything  for. 
Don't  you  get  the  idea  into  your  head  that  a  fool  thing 
you  call  pride  is  going  to  cut  us  out  of  all  the  pleasure  we 
have  in  life  beside  ourselves." 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL  21 

"Uncle  Wesley,  you  are  a  dear,"  said  Elnora.  "Just 
a  dear!  If  I  can't  possibly  get  that  money  any  way  else 
on  earth,  I'll  come  and  borrow  it  of  you,  and  then  I'll  pay  it 
back  if  I  dig  ferns  from  the  swamp  and  sell  them  from  door 
to  door  in  the  city.  I'll  even  plant  them,  so  that  they  will 
be  sure  to  come  up  in  the  spring.  I  have  been  sort  of 
panic-stricken  all  day  and  couldn't  think,  I  can  gather 
nuts  and  sell  them.  Freckles  sold  moths  and  butterflies, 
and  I've  a  lot  collected.  Of  course,  I  am  going  back  to- 
morrow! I  can  find  a  way  to  get  the  books.  Don't  you 
worry  about  me.     I  am  all  right!" 

"Now,  what  do  you  think  of  that?"  inquired  Wesley 
Sinton  of  the  swamp  in  general.  "Here's  our  Elnora 
come  back  to  stay.  Head  high  and  right  as  a  trivet! 
You've  named  three  ways  in  three  minutes  that  you 
could  earn  ten  dollars,  which  I  figure  would  be  enough  to 
start  you.     Let's  go  to  supper  and  stop  worrying!" 

Elnora  unlocked  the  case,  took  out  the  pail,  put  the 
napkin  in  it,  pulled  the  ribbon  from  her  hair,  binding  it 
down  tight  again  and  followed  out  to  the  road.  From 
afar  she  could  see  her  mother  in  the  doorway.  She 
blinked  her  eyes,  and  tried  to  smile  as  she  answered  Wes- 
ley Sinton,  and  indeed  she  did  feel  better.  She  knew 
now  what  she  had  to  expect,  where  to  go,  and  what  to  do. 
Get  the  books  she  must;  when  she  got  them,  she  would 
show  those  city  girls  and  boys  how  to  prepare  and  recite 
lessons,  how  to  walk  with  a  brave  heart;  and  they  could 
show  her  how  to  wear  pretty  clothes  and  have  good 
times. 


22  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

As  she  neared  the  door  her  mother  reached  for  the  pail. 
"I  forgot  to  tell  you  to  bring  home  your  scraps  for  the 
chickens,"  she  said. 

Elnora  entered.  "There  weren't  any  scraps,  and  I'm 
hungry  again  as  I  ever  was  in  my  life. " 

"I  thought  likely  you  would  be,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock, 
"and  so  I  got  supper  ready.  We  can  eat  first,  and  do  the 
work  afterward.  What  kept  you  so?  I  expected  you  an 
hour  ago. " 

Elncra  looked  into  her  mother's  face  and  smiled.  It 
was  a  queer  sort  of  a  little  smile,  and  would  have  reached 
the  depths  with  any  normal  mother. 

"I  see  you've  been  bawling,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I 
thought  you'd  get  your  fill  in  a  hurry.  That's  why  I 
wouldn't  go  to  any  expense,,  If  we  keep  out  of  the  poor- 
house  we  have  to  cut  the  corners  close.  It's  likely  this 
Brushwood  road  tax  will  eat  up  all  we've  saved  in  years. 
Where  the  land  tax  is  to  come  from  I  don't  know.  It  gets 
bigger  every  year.  If  they  are  going  to  dredge  the 
swamp  ditch  again  they'll  just  have  to  take  the  land  to 
pay  for  it.  I  can't,  that's  all!  We'll  get  up  early  in  the 
morning  and  gather  and  hull  the  beans  for  winter,  and  put 
in  the  rest  of  the  day  hoeing  the  turnips. " 

Elnora  again  smiled  that  pitiful  smile. 

"Do  you  think  I  didn't  know  that  I  was  funny  and 
would  be  laughed  at?"  she  asked. 

"Funny?"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock  hotly. 

"Yes,  funny!  A  regular  caricature, "  answered  Elnora. 
"No  one  else  wore  calico,  not  even  one  other.     No  one 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL  25 

else  wore  high  heavy  shoes,  not  even  one.  No  one  else 
had  such  a  funny  little  old  hat;  my  hair  was  not  right,  my 
ribbon  invisible  compared  with  the  others.  I  did  not 
know  where  to  go,  or  what  to  do,  and  I  had  no  books. 
What  a  spectacle  I  made  for  them!"  Elnora  laughed 
nervously  at  her  own  picture.  "But  there's  always  two 
sides!  The  professor  said  in  the  algebra  class  that  he 
never  had  a  better  solution  and  explanation  than  mine  of 
the  proposition  he  gave  me,  which  scored  one  for  me  in 
spite  of  my  clothes. " 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  brag  on  myself!" 

"That  was  poor  taste,"  admitted  Elnora.  "But,  you 
see,  it  is  a  case  of  whistling  to  keep  up  my  courage.  I 
honestly  could  see  that  I  would  have  looked  just  as  well 
as  the  rest  of  them  if  I  had  been  dressed  as  they  were. 
We  can't  afford  that,  so  I  have  to  find  something  else  to 
brace  me.     It  was  pretty  bad,  mother!" 

"Well,  I'm  glad  you  got  enough  of  it!" 

"Oh,  but  I  haven't!"  hurried  in  Elnora.  "I  just  got  a 
start.  The  hardest  is  over.  To-morrow  they  won't  be 
surprised.  They  will  know  what  to  expect.  I  am  sorry 
to  hear  about  the  dredge.     Is  it  really  going  through?" 

"Yes.  I  got  my  notification  to-day.  The  tax  will  be 
something  enormous.  I  don't  know  as  I  can  spare  you, 
even  if  you  are  willing  to  be  a  laughing-stock  for  the  town." 

With  every  bite  Elnora's  courage  rose,  for  she  was  a 
healthy  young  thing. 

"You've  heard  about  doing  evil  that  good  might  come 
from  it,"  she  said.     "Well,  mother  mine,  it's  a  little  like 


24  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

that  with  me.  I'm  willing  to  bear  the  hard  part  to  pay 
for  what  I'll  learn.  Already  I  have  selected  the  ward 
building  in  which  I  shall  teach  in  about  four  years.  I 
am  going  to  ask  for  a  room  with  a  south  exposure  so  that 
the  flowers  and  moths  I  bring  in  from  the  swamp  to  show 
the  children  will  do  well. " 

"You  little  idiot!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "How  are 
you  going  to  pay  your  expenses?" 

"Now,  that  is  just  what  I  was  going  to  ask  you!"  said 
Elnora.  "You  see,  I  have  had  two  startling  pieces  of 
news  to-day.  I  did  not  know  I  would  need  any  money. 
I  thought  the  city  furnished  the  books,  and  there  is  an 
out-of-town  tuition,  also.  I  need  ten  dollars  in  the  morn- 
ing.    Will  you  please  let  me  have  it?" 

"Ten  dollars!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Ten  dollars! 
Why  don't  you  say  a  hundred  and  be  done  with  it!  I 
could  get  one  as  easy  as  the  other.  I  told  you!  I  told 
you  I  couldn't  raise  a  cent.  Every  year  expenses  grow 
bigger  and  bigger.     I  told  you  not  to  ask  for  money!" 

"  I  never  meant  to, "  replied  Elnora.  "  I  thought  clothes 
were  all  I  needed  and  I  could  bear  them.  I  never  knew 
about  buying  books  and  tuition. " 

"Well,  I  did!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I  knew  what 
you  would  run  into!  But  you  are  so  bull-dog  stubborn, 
and  so  set  in  your  way,  I  thought  I  would  just  let  you 
try  the  world  a  little  and  see  how  you  liked  it!" 

Elnora  pushed  back  her  chair  and  looked  at  her  mother. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,"  she  demanded,  "that  you  knew 
when  you  let  me  go  into  a  city  classroom  and  reveal  the 


ELNORA  GOES  TO  HIGH  SCHOOL    25 

fact  before  all  of  them  that  I  expected  to  have  my  books 
handed  out  to  me;  do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  knew  I 
had  to  pay  for  them?" 

Mrs.  Comstock  evaded  the  direct  question. 

"Anybody  but  an  idiot  mooning  over  a  book  or  wasting 
time  prowling  the  woods  would  have  known  you  had  to 
pay.  Everybody  has  to  pay  for  everything.  Life  is 
made  up  of  pay,  pay,  pay!  It's  always  and  forever  pay! 
If  you  don't  pay  one  way  you  do  another!  Of  course, 
I  knew  you  had  to  pay.  Of  course,  I  knew  you  would 
come  home  blubbering!  But  you  don't  get  a  penny!  I 
haven't  one  cent,  and  can't  get  one!  Have  your  way  if 
you  are  determined,  but  I  think  you  will  find  the  road 
pretty  rocky." 

"Swampy,  you  mean,  mother,"  corrected  Elnora. 
She  arose  white  and  trembling.  "Perhaps  some  day 
God  will  teach  me  how  to  understand  you.  He  knows 
I  do  not  now.  You  can't  possibly  realize  just  what  you 
let  me  go  through  to-day,  or  how  you  let  me  go,  but  I'll 
tell  you  this:  You  understand  enough  that  if  you  had 
the  money,  and  would  offer  it  to  me,  I  wouldn't  touch  it 
now.  And  I'll  tell  you  this  much  more:  I'll  get  it  myself. 
I'll  raise  it,  and  do  it  some  honest  way.  I  am  going  back 
to-morrow,  the  next  day,  and  the  next.  You  need  not 
come  out,  I'll  do  the  night  work,  and  hoe  the  turnips. " 

It  was  ten  o'clock  when  the  chickens,  pigs,  and  cattle 
were  fed,  the  turnips  hoed,  and  a  heap  of  bean  vines  was 
stacked  by  the  back  door. 


CHAPTER  II 

Wherein  Wesley  and  Margaret  Go  Shopping,  and 
Elnora's  Wardrobe  Is  Replenished 

Wesley  Sinton  walked  down  the  road  a  half-mile 
and  turned  in  at  the  lane  leading  to  his  home.  His  heart 
was  hot  and  filled  with  indignation.  He  had  told  Elnora 
he  did  not  blame  her  mother,  but  he  did.  His  wife  met 
him  at  the  door. 

"Did  you  see  anything  of  Elnora,  Wesley?"  she  ques- 
tioned. 

"Most  too  much,  Maggie,"  he  answered.  "What  do 
you  say  to  going  to  town?  There's  a  few  things  has  to 
be  got  right  away?" 

"Where  did  you  see  her,  Wesley?" 

"Along  the  old  Limberlost  trail,  my  girl,  torn  to  pieces 
sobbing.  Her  courage  always  has  been  fine,  but  the 
thing  she  met  to-day  was  too  much  for  her.  We  ought 
to  have  known  better  than  to  let  her  go  that  way.  It 
wasn't  only  clothes;  there  were  books,  and  entrance  fees 
for  out-of-town  people,  that  she  didn't  know  about;  while 
there  must  have  been  jeers,  whispers,  and  laughing. 
Maggie,  I  feel  as  if  I'd  been  a  traitor  to  those,. girls  of  ours. 
I  ought  to  have  gone  in  and  seen  about  this  school  business. 

26 


WESLEY  AND  MARGARET  GO  SHOPPING  27 

I'm  no  man  to  let  a  fatherless  girl  run  into  such  trouble. 
Don't  cry,  Maggie.  Get  me  some  supper,  and  I'll  hitch 
up  and  see  what  we  can  do  now. " 

"What  can  we  do,  Wesley?" 

"I  don't  just  know.  But  we've  got  to  do  something. 
Kate  Comstock  will  be  a  handful,  while  Elnora  will  be 
two,  but  between  us  we  must  see  that  the  girl  is  not  too 
hard  pressed  about  money,  and  that  she  is  dressed  so  she 
is  not  ridiculous.  She's  saved  us  the  wages  of  a  woman 
many  a  day;  can't  you  make  her  some  decent  dresses, 
Maggie?" 

"Well,  I'm  not  just  what  you  call  expert,  but  I  could 
beat  Kate  Comstock  all  to  pieces.  I  know  that  skirts 
should  be  pleated  to  the  band  instead  of  gathered,  and 
full  enough  to  sit  in,  and  short  enough  to  walk  in.  I  could 
try.  There's  patterns  for  sale.  Let's  go  right  away, 
Wesley." 

"Well,  set  me  a  bite  of  supper,  while  I  hitch  up." 

Margaret  Sinton  started  for  the  cupboard  when  she 
remembered  that  Wesley  had  worked  all  day  and  was 
hungry  as  usual,  so  she  built  a  fire,  made  coffee,  and  fried 
ham  and  eggs.  She  set  out  pie  and  cake  and  had  enough 
for  a  hungry  man  by  the  time  the  carriage  was  at  the 
door,  but  she  had  no  appetite.  She  dressed  while  Wes- 
ley ate,  put  away  the  food  while  he  dressed,  and  then 
they  drove  toward  the  city  through  the  beautiful  Septem- 
ber evening,  and  as  they  went  they  planned  for  Elnora. 
The  only  trouble  was,  not  whether  they  were  generous 
enough    to    get    what    she    needed,    but    whether    she 


28  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

would  accept  what  they  got,  and  what  her  mother  would 
say. 

They  went  to  a  large  dry  goods  store  and  when  a  clerk 
asked  what  they  wanted  to  see  neither  of  them  knew,  so 
they  stepped  to  one  side  and  held  a  whispered  consulta- 
tion. 

"What  had  we  better  get,  Wesley?" 

"Dresses,"  said  Wesley  promptly. 

"But  how  many  dresses,  and  what  kind?" 

"Blest  if  I  know!"  exclaimed  Wesley.  "I  thought  you 
would  manage  that.  I  know  about  some  things  I'm  going 
to  get. " 

At  that  instant  several  schoolgirls  came  into  the  store 
and  approached  them. 

"There!"  exclaimed  Wesley  breathlessly.  "There, 
Maggie!  Like  them!  That's  what  she  needs!  Buy  like 
they  have!" 

Margaret  stared.  What  did  they  wear?  They  were 
rapidly  passing,  they  seemed  to  have  so  much,  and  she 
could  not  decide  so  quickly.  Before  she  knew  it  she  was 
among  them. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  but  won't  you  wait  one  minute?" 
she  asked. 

The  girls  stopped  with  wondering  faces. 

"It's  your  clothes,"  explained  Mrs.  Sinton.  "You 
look  just  beautiful  to  me.  You  look  exactly  as  I  should 
have  wanted  to  see  my  girls.  They  both  died  of  diph- 
theria when  they  were  little,  but  they  had  yellow  hair, 
dark  eyes  and  pink  cheeks,  and  everybody  thought  they 


WESLEY  AND  MARGARET  GO  SHOPPING  29 

were  lovely.  If  they  had  lived,  they'd  been  near  your 
age  now,  and  I'd  want  them  to  look  like  you." 

There  was  nothing  but  sympathy  in  every  girl  face 
before  Margaret  Sinton. 

"Why,  thank  you!"  said  one  of  them.  "We  are  very 
sorry  for  you." 

"Of  course,  you  are,"  said  Margaret.  "Everybody 
always  has  been.  And  because  I  can't  ever  have  the  joy 
of  a  mother  in  thinking  for  my  girls  and  buying  pretty 
things  for  them,  there  is  nothing  left  for  me  but  to  do 
what  I  can  for  some  one  who  has  no  mother  to  care  for 
her.  I  know  a  girl,  who  would  be  just  as  pretty  as  any  of 
you,  if  she  had  the  clothes,  but  her  mother  does  not  think 
about  her,  so  I  got  to  mother  her  some  myself." 

"She  must  be  a  lucky  girl,"  said  another. 

"Oh,  she  loves  me,"  said  Margaret,  "and  I  love  her. 
I  want  her  too  look  just  like  you  do.  Please  tell  me  about 
your  clothes.  Are  these  the  dresses  and  hats  you  wear 
to  school?  What  kind  of  goods  are  they,  and  where  do 
you  buy  them?" 

The  girls  began  to  laugh  and  cluster  around  Margaret. 
Wesley  Sinton  strode  down  the  store  with  his  head  high 
in  pride  of  her,  but  his  heart  was  sore  over  the  memory 
of  two  little  faces  under  Brushwood  sod.  He  inquired 
his  way  to  the  shoe  department. 

"Why,  every  one  of  us  have  on  gingham  or  linen 
dresses,"  they  said,  "and  they  are  our  school  clothes." 

For  a  few  moments  there  was  a  babel  of  laughing  voices 
explaining  to  the  delighted  Margaret  that  school  dresses 


30  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

should  be  bright  and  pretty,  but  simple  and  plain,  and 
until  cold  weather  they  should  wash. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  said  Ellen  Brownlee,  "my  father  owns 
this  store,  I  know  all  the  clerks.  I'll  take  you  to  Miss 
Hartley.  You  tell  her  just  how  much  you  want  to  spend, 
and  what  you  want  to  buy,  and  she  will  know  how  to  get 
the  most  for  your  money.  I've  heard  papa  say  she  was 
the  best  clerk  in  the  store  for  people  who  didn't  know 
precisely  what  they  wanted." 

"That's  the  very  thing,"  agreed  Margaret.  "But  be- 
before  you  go,  tell  me  about  your  hair.  Elnora's  hair  is 
bright  and  wavy,  but  yours  is  silky  as  hackled  flax.  How 
do  you  do  it?" 

"Elnora?"  asked  four  girls  in  concert. 

"Yes,  Elnora  is  the  name  of  the  girl  I  want  these  things 
for." 

"Did  she  come  to  the  high  school  to-day?"  questioned 
one  of  them. 

"Was  she  in  your  classes?"  demanded  Margaret  with- 
out reply. 

Four  girls  stood  silent  and  thought  fast.  Had  there 
been  a  strange  girl  among  them,  and  had  she  been  over- 
looked and  passed  by  with  indifference,  because  she  was 
so  very  shabby?  If  she  had  appeared  as  much  better 
than  they,  as  she  had  looked  worse,  would  her  reception 
have  been  the  same? 

"There  was  a  strange  girl  from  the  country  in  the 
Freshman  class  to-day,"  said  Ellen  Brownlee,  "and  her 
name  was  Elnora." 


WESLEY  AND  MARGARET  GO  SHOPPING  31 

"That  was  the  girl,"  said  Margaret. 

"Are  her  people  so  very  poor?"  questioned  Ellen. 

"No,  not  poor  at  all,  come  to  think  of  it,"  answered 
Margaret.  "It's  a  peculiar  case.  Mrs.  Comstock  had 
a  great  trouble  and  she  let  it  change  her  whole  life  and 
make  a  different  woman  of  her.  She  used  to  be  lovely, 
now  she  is  forever  saving  and  scared  to  death  for  fear  they 
will  go  to  the  poorhouse;  but  there  is  a  big  farm,  covered 
with  lots  of  good  timber.  The  taxes  are  high  for  women 
who  can't  manage  to  clear  and  work  the  land.  There 
ought  to  be  enough  to  keep  two  of  them  in  good  shape  all 
their  lives,  if  they  only  knew  how  to  do  it.  But  no  one 
ever  told  Kate  Comstock  anything,  and  never  will,  for 
she  won't  listen.  All  she  does  is  droop  all  day,  and  walk 
the  edge  of  the  swamp  half  the  night,  and  neglect  Elnora. 
If  you  girls  would  make  life  just  a  little  easier  for  her,  it 
would  be  the  finest  thing  you  ever  did." 

All  of  them  promised  they  would. 

"Now  tell  me  about  your  hair,"  persisted  Margaret 
Sinton. 

So  they  took  her  to  a  toilet  counter,  and  she  bought 
the  proper  hair  soap,  also  a  nail  file,  and  cold  cream,  for 
use  after  windy  days.  Then  they  left  her  with  the  ex- 
perienced clerk,  and  when  at  last  Wesley  found  her  she  was 
loaded  with  bundles  and  the  glint  of  other  days  was  in  her 
beautiful  eyes.     Wesley  carried  some  packages  also. 

"Did  you  get  any  stockings?"  he  whispered. 

"No,  I  didn't,"  she  said.  "I  was  so  interested  in 
dresses  and  hair  ribbons  and  a  —  a  hat "she  hesi- 


32  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

tated  and  glanced  at  Wesley.  "Of  course,  a  hat!" 
prompted  Wesley.  "That  I  forgot  all  about  those 
horrible  shoes!     She's  got  to  have  decent  shoes,  Wesley." 

"Sure!"  said  Wesley.  "She's  got  decent  shoes.  But 
the  man  said  some  brown  stockings  ought  to  go  with  them. 
Take  a  peep,  will  you!" 

Wesley  opened  a  box  and  displayed  a  pair  of  thick- 
soled,  beautifully  shaped  brown  walking  shoes  of  low  cut. 
Margaret  cried  out  with  pleasure. 

"But,  do  you  suppose  they  are  the  right  size,  Wesley? 
What  did  you  get?" 

"I  just  said  for  a  girl  of  sixteen  with  a  slender  foot." 

"Well,  that's  about  as  near  as  I  could  come.  If  they 
don't  fit  when  she  tries  them,  we  will  drive  straight  in  and 
change  them.     Come  on,  now,  let's  get  home." 

All  the  way  they  discussed  how  they  should  give  Elnora 
their  purchases  and  what  Mrs.  Comstock  would  say. 

"I  am  afraid  she  will  be  awful  mad,"  said  Margaret 
Sinton  tremulously. 

"She'll  just  rip!"  replied  Wesley  graphically.  "But 
if  she  wants  to  leave  the  raising  of  her  girl  to  the  neigh- 
bours, she  needn't  get  fractious  if  they  take  some  pride  in 
doing  a  good  job.  From  now  on  I  calculate  Elnora  shall 
go  to  school;  and  she  shall  have  all  the  clothes  and  books 
she  needs,  if  I  go  around  on  the  back  of  Kate  Comstock's 
land  and  cut  a  tree,  or  drive  off  a  calf  to  pay  for  them. 
Why  I  know  one  tree  she  owns  that  would  put  Elnora  in 
heaven  for  a  year.  Just  think  of  it,  Margaret!  It's  not 
fair.     One  third  of  what  is  there  belongs  to  Elnora  by  law, 


WESLEY  AND  MARGARET  GO  SHOPPING  33 

and  if  Kate  Comstock  raises  a  row  I'll  tell  her  so,  and  see 
that  the  girl  gets  it.  You  go  to  see  Kate  in  the  morning, 
and  I'll  go  with  you.  Tell  her  you  want  Elnora's  pattern, 
that  you  are  going  to  make  her  a  dress,  for  helping  us. 
And  sort  of  hint  at  a  few  more  things.  If  Kate  balks, 
I'll  take  a  hand  and  settle  her.  I'll  go  to  law  for  Elnora's 
share  of  that  land  and  sell  enough  to  educate  her." 

"Why,  Wesley  Sinton,  you're  perfectly  wild." 

"I'm  not!  Did  you  ever  stop  to  think  that  such  cases 
are  so  frequent  there  have  been  laws  made  to  provide  for 
them?  I  can  bring  it  up  in  court  and  force  Kate  to 
educate  Elnora,  and  board  and  clothe  her  till  she's  of 
age,  and  then  she  can  take  her  share." 

"Wesley,  Kate  would  go  crazy!" 

"  She's  crazy  now.  The  idea  of  any  mother  living  with 
as  sweet  a  girl  as  Elnora,  and  letting  her  suffer  till  I  find 
her  crying  like  a  funeral.  It  makes  me  fighting  mad.  All 
uncalled  for.  Not  a  grain  of  sense  in  it.  I've  offered  and 
offered  to  oversee  clearing  her  land  and  working  her  fields. 
Let  her  sell  a  good  tree,  or  a  few  acres.  Something  is  go- 
ing to  be  done,  right  now.  Elnora's  been  fairly  happy  up 
to  this,  but  to  spoil  the  school  life  she's  planned  is  to  ruin 
all  her  life.  I  won't  have  it!  If  Elnora  won't  take  these 
things,  so  help  me,  I'll  tell  her  what  she  is  worth,  and  loan 
her  the  money  and  she  can  pay  me  back  when  she  comes 
of  age.  I  am  going  to  have  it  out  with  Kate  Comstock  in 
the  morning.  Here  we  are!  You  open  up  what  you  got 
while  I  put  away  the  horses,  and  then  I'll  show  you." 

When  Wesley  came  from  the  barn  Margaret  had  four 


34  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

pieces  of  crisp  gingham,  a  pale  blue,  a  pink,  a  gray  with 
green  stripes  and  a  rich  brown  and  blue  plaid.  On  each 
of  them  lay  a  yard  and  a  half  of  wide  ribbon  to  match. 
There  were  handkerchiefs  and  a  brown  leather  belt.  In 
her  hands  she  held  a  wide-brimmed  tan  straw  hat,  having 
a  high  crown  banded  with  velvet  strips  each  of  which 
fastened  with  a  tiny  gold  buckle. 

"It  looks  kind  of  bare  now,"  she  explained.  "It  had 
three  quills  on  it  here." 

"Did  you  have  them  taken  off?"  asked  Wesley  du- 
biously. 

"Yes,  I  did.  The  price  was  two  and  a  half  for  the  hat, 
and  those  things  were  a  dollar  and  a  half  apiece.  I  couldn't 
pay  that." 

"It  does  seem  considerable,"  admitted  Wesley,  "but 
will  it  look  right  without  them?" 

"No,  it  won't!"  said  Margaret.  "It's  going  to  have 
quills  on  it.  Do  you  remember  those  beautiful  peacock 
wing  feathers  that  Phoebe  Simms  gave  me?  Three  of 
them  go  on  just  where  those  came  off,  and  nobody  will 
ever  know  the  difference.  They  match  the  hat  to  a  moral, 
and  they  are  just  a  little  longer  and  richer  than  the  ones 
that  I  had  taken  off.  I  was  wondering  whether  I  better 
sew  them  on  to-night  while  I  remember  how  they  set,  or 
wait  till  morning." 

"Don't  risk  it!"  exclaimed  Wesley  anxiously.  "Don't 
you  risk  it !     Sew  them  on  right  now ! " 

"Open  your  bundles,  while  I  get  the  thread,"  said  Mar- 
garet. 


WESLEY  AND  MARGARET  GO  SHOPPING  35 

Wesley  set  out  the  shoes.  Margaret  took  them  up  and 
pinched  the  leather  and  stroked  them. 

"My,  but  they  are  pretty!"  she  cried. 

Wesley  picked  up  one  and  slowly  turned  it  in  his  big 
hands.     He  glanced  at  his  foot  and  back  to  the  shoe. 

"It's  a  little  bit  of  a  thing,  Margaret,"  he  said  softly. 
"Like  as  not  I'll  have  to  take  it  back.  It  don't  look  as  if 
it  could  fit." 

"It  don't  look  like  it  dared  do  anything  else,"  said 
Margaret.  "That's  a  happy  little  shoe  to  get  the  chance 
to  carry  as  fine  a  girl  as  Elnora  to  high  school.  Now, 
what's  in  the  other  box?" 

Wesley  looked  at  Margaret  doubtfully. 

"Why,"  he  said,  "you  know  there's  going  to  be  rainy 
days,  and  those  things  she  has  now  ain't  fit  for  anything 
but  to  drive  up  the  cows " 

"Wesley,  did  you  get  high  shoes,  too?" 

"Well,  she  ought  to  have  them!  The  man  said 
he  would  make  them  cheaper  if  I  took  both  pairs  at 
once." 

Margaret  laughed  aloud.  "Those  will  do  her  past 
Christmas,"  she  exulted.     "What  else  did  you  get?" 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Wesley,  "I  saw  something  to-day. 
You  told  me  about  Kate  getting  that  tin  pail  for  Elnora 
to  carry  to  high  school  and  you  said  you  told  her  it  was  a 
shame.  I  guess  Elnora  was  ashamed  all  right,  for  to- 
night she  stopped  at  the  old  case  Duncan  gave  her,  and 
took  out  that  pail,  where  it  had  been  all  day,  and  put  a 
napkin  inside  it.      Coming  home  she  confessed  she  was 


36  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

half  starved  because  she  hid  her  dinner  under  a  culvert, 
and  a  tramp  took  it.  She  hadn't  had  a  bite  to  eat  the 
whole  day.  But  she  never  complained  at  all,  she  was 
tickled  to  death  that  she  hadn't  lost  the  napkin.  So  I 
just  inquired  around  till  I  found  this,  and  I  think  it's  about 
the  ticket.  Decent  looking  and  handy  as  you  please. 
See  here,  now!" 

Wesley  opened  the  package  and  laid  a  brown  leather 
lunch  box  on  the  table.  "Might  be  a  couple  of  books,  or 
drawing  tools  or  most  anything  that's  neat  and  genteel. 
You  see,  it  opens  this  way." 

It  did  open,  and  inside  was  a  space  for  sandwiches,  a 
little  porcelain  box  for  cold  meat  or  fried  chicken,  another 
for  salad,  a  glass  with  a  lid  which  screwed  on,  held  by  a 
ring  in  a  corner,  for  custard  or  jelly,  a  flask  for  tea  or  milk, 
a  beautiful  little  knife,  fork,  and  spoon  fastened  in  holders, 
and  a  place  for  a  napkin. 

Margaret  was  almost  crying  over  it. 

"How  I'd  love  to  fill  it!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Do  it  the  first  time,  just  to  show  Kate  Comstock  what 
love  is !"  said  Wesley.  "Get  up  early  in  the  morning  and 
make  one  of  those  dresses  to-morrow.  Can't  you  make  a 
plain  gingham  dress  in  a  day?  I'll  pick  a  chicken,  and  you 
fry  it  and  fix  a  little  custard  for  the  cup,  and  do  it  up 
brown.     Go  on,  Maggie,  you  do  it!" 

"I  never  can,"  said  Margaret.  "I  am  slow  as  the  itch 
about  sewing,  and  these  are  not  going  to  be  plain  dresses 
when  it  comes  to  making  them.  There  are  going  to  be 
edgings  of  plain  green,  pink,  and  brown  to  the  bias  strips, 


WESLEY  AND  MARGARET  GO  SHOPPING  37 

and  tucks  and  pleats  about  the  hips,  fancy  belts  and 
collars,  and  all  of  it  takes  time." 

"Then  Kate  Comstock's  got  to  help,"  said  Wesley. 
"Can  the  two  of  you  make  one,  and  get  that  lunch  to- 
morrow?" 

"Easy,  but  she'll  never  do  it!" 

"You  see  if  she  don't"  said  Wesley.  "You  get  up  and 
cut  it  out,  and  soon  as  Elnora  is  gone  I'll  go  after  Kate  my- 
self. She'll  take  what  I'll  say  better  alone.  But  she'll 
come,  and  she'll  help  make  the  dress.  These  other  things 
are  our  Christmas  gifts  to  Elnora.  She'll  no  doubt  need 
them  more  now  than  she  will  then,  and  we  can  give  them 
just  as  well.  That's  yours,  and  this  is  mine,  or  whichever 
way  you  choose." 

Wesley  untied  a  good  brown  umbrella  and  shook  out 
the  folds  of  a  long,  brown  raincoat.  Margaret  dropped 
the  hat,  arose  and  took  the  coat.  She  tried  it  on,  felt  it, 
cooed  over  it  and  matched  it  with  the  umbrella. 

"Did  it  look  anything  like  rain  to-night?"  she  inquired 
so  anxiously  that  Wesley  laughed. 

"And  this  last  bundle?"  she  said,  dropping  back  in  her 
chair,  the  coat  still  over  her  shoulders. 

"I  couldn't  buy  this  much  stuff  for  any  other  woman 
and  nothing  for  my  own,"  said  Wesley.  "It's  Christmas 
for  you,  too,  Margaret!"  He  shook  out  fold  after  fold 
of  soft  gray  satiny  goods  that  would  look  lovely  against 
Margaret's  pink  cheeks  and  whitening  hair. 

"Oh,  you  old  darling!"  she  exclaimed,  and  fled  sobbing 
into  his  arms. 


38  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

But  she  soon  dried  her  eyes,  raked  together  the  coals 
in  the  cooking  stove  and  boiled  one  of  the  dress  patterns 
in  salt  water  for  a  half-hour.  Wesley  held  the  lamp  while 
she  hung  the  goods  on  the  line  to  dry.  Then  she  set  the 
irons  on  the  stove  so  they  would  get  hot  the  first  thing  in 
the  morning. 


CHAPTER  III 

Wherein  Elnora  Visits  the  Bird  Woman,  and 
Opens  a  Bank  Account 

At  four  o'clock  next  morning  Elnora  was  shelling  beans. 
At  six  she  fed  the  chickens  and  pigs,  swept  two  of  the 
rooms  of  the  cabin,  built  a  fire,  and  put  on  the  kettle  for 
breakfast.  Then  she  climbed  the  narrow  stairs  to  the 
attic  she  had  occupied  since  a  very  small  child,  and  dressed 
in  the  hated  shoes  and  brown  calico,  plastered  down  her 
crisp  curls,  ate  what  breakfast  she  could,  and  pinning  on 
her  hat  started  for  town. 

"There  is  no  sense  in  your  going  for  an  hour  yet,"  said 
her  mother. 

"I  must  try  to  discover  some  way  to  earn  those  books," 
replied  Elnora.  "I  am  perfectly  positive  I  shall  not  find 
them  lying  along  the  road  wrapped  in  tissue  paper,  and 
tagged  with  my  name." 

She  went  toward  the  city  as  on  yesterday.  Her  per- 
plexity as  to  where  tuition  and  books  were  to  come  from 
was  worse,  but  she  did  not  feel  quite  so  badly.  She  never 
again  would  have  to  face  all  of  it  for  the  first  time.  She 
had  been  through  it  once,  and  was  yet  living.  There  had 
been  times  yesterday  when  she  had  prayed  to  be  hidden, 

39 


40  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

or  to  drop  dead,  and  neither  had  happened.  "I  guess  the 
best  way  to  get  an  answer  to  prayer  is  to  work  for  it," 
muttered  Elnora  grimly. 

Again  she  took  the  trail  to  the  swamp,  rearranged  her 
hair  and  left  the  tin  pail.  This  time  she  folded  a  couple 
of  sandwiches  in  the  napkin,  and  tied  them  in  a  neat  light 
paper  parcel  which  she  carried  in  her  hand.  Then  she 
hurried'along  the  road  to  Onabasha  and  found  a  book-store. 
There  she  asked  the  prices  of  the  list  of  books  that  she 
needed,  and  learned  that  six  dollars  would  not  quite  supply 
them.  She  anxiously  inquired  for  second-hand  books, 
but  was  told  that  the  only  way  to  secure  them  was  from 
the  last  year's  Freshmen.  Just  then  Elnora  fet  that  she 
positively  could  not  approach  any  of  those  she  supposed  to 
be  Sophomores  and  ask  to  buy  their  old  books.  The  only 
balm  the  girl  could  see  for  the  humiliation  of  yesterday 
was  to  appear  that  day  with  a  set  of  new  books. 

"Do  you  wish  these?"  asked  the  clerk  hurriedly,  for 
the  store  was  rapidly  filling  with  school  children  wanting 
anything  from  a  dictionary  to  a  pen. 

"Yes,"  gasped  Elnora.  "Oh,  yes!  But  I  cannot  pay 
for  them  just  now.  Please  let  me  take  them,  and  I  will 
pay  for  them  on  Friday,  or  return  them  as  perfect  as  they 
are.     Please  trust  me  for  them  a  few  days." 

The  clerk  lookecTat  her  doubtfully  and  took  her  name. 

"I'll  ask  the  proprietor,"  he  said.  When  he  came  back 
Elnora  knew  the  answer  before  he  spoke. 

"I'm  sorry,"  he  said,  "but  Mr.  Hann  doesn't  recognize 
your  name.     You  are  not  a  customer  of  ours,  and  he  feels 


ELNORA  VISITS  THE  BIRD  WOMAN       41 

that  he  can't  take  the  risk.  You'll  have  to  bring  the 
money." 

Elnora  clumped  out  of  the  store,  the  thump  of  her  heavy 
shoes  beating  as  a  hammer  on  her  brain.  She  tried  two 
other  houses  with  the  same  result,  and  then  in  sick  de- 
spair came  into  the  street.  What  could  she  do?  She  was 
too  frightened  to  think.  Should  she  stay  from  school  that 
day  and  canvass  the  homes  appearing  to  belong  to  the 
wealthy,  and  try  to  sell  beds  of  wild  ferns,  as  she  had  sug- 
gested to  Wesley  Sinton?  What  would  she  dare  ask  for 
bringing  in  and  planting  a  clump  of  ferns?  How  could 
she  carry  them?  Would  people  buy  them?  She  slowly 
moved  past  the  hotel  and  then  glanced  around  to  see  if 
there  was  a  clock  anywhere,  for  she  felt  sure  the  young 
people  passing  her  constantly  were  on  their  way  to  school. 

There  it  stood  in  a  bank  window  in  big  black  letters 
staring  straight  at  her: 


wanted:  caterpillars,  cocoons,  chrysalides, 
pup-ffi  cases,  butterflies,  moths,  indian  relics  of 
all  kinds.  highest  scale  of  prices  paid  in  cash 


Elnora  caught  the  wicket  at  the  cashier's  desk  with 
both  hands  to  brace  herself  against  disappointment. 

"Who  is  it  wants  to  buy  cocoons,  butterflies,  and 
moths?"  she  panted. 

"The  Bird  Woman,"  answered  the  cashier.  "Have 
you  some  for  sale?" 

"I  have  some;  I  do  not  know  if  they  are  what  she  would 
want." 


42  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Well,  you  had  better  see  her,"  said  the  cashier.  "Do 
you  know  where  she  lives  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Elnora.     "Would  you  tell  me  the  time?" 

"Twenty-one  after  eight,"  was  the  answer. 

She  had  nine  minutes  to  reach  the  auditorium  or  be 
late.  Should  she  go  to  school,  or  to  the  Bird  Woman? 
Several  girls  passed  her  walking  swiftly  and  she  remem- 
bered their  faces.  They  were  hurrying  to  school.  Elnora 
caught  the  infection.  She  would  see  the  Bird  Woman  at 
noon.  Algebra  came  first,  and  that  professor  was  kind. 
Perhaps  she  could  slip  to  the  superintendent  and  ask  him 
for  a  book  for  the  next  lesson,  and  at  noon  " —  Oh,  dear 
Lord,  make  it  come  true,"  prayed  Elnora  —  at  noon  maybe 
she  could  sell  some  of  those  wonderful  shining-winged 
things  she  had  been  collecting  all  her  life  around  the  out- 
skirts of  the  Limberlost. 

As  she  went  down  the  long  hall  she  noticed  the  professor 
of  mathematics  standing  in  the  door  of  his  recitation  room. 
When  she  came  up  to  him  he  smiled  and  spoke  to  her. 

"I  have  been  watching  for  you,"  he  said,  and  Elnora 
stopped  bewildered. 

"For  me?"  she  questioned. 

"Yes,"  said  Professor  Henley.     "Step  inside." 

Elnora  followed  him  into  the  room  and  he  swung  the 
door  behind  them. 

"At  teachers'  meeting  last  evening  one  of  the  profes- 
sors mentioned  that  a  pupil  had  betrayed  in  class  that 
she  had  expected  her  books  to  be  furnished  by  the  city.  I 
thought  possibly  it  was  you.     Was  it?" 


ELNORA   VISITS  THE  BIRD  WOMAN       43 

"Yes,"  breathed  Elnora. 

"That  being  the  case,"  said  Professor  Henley,  "it  just 
occurred  to  me  as  you  had  expected  that,  you  might  re- 
quire a  little  time  to  secure  them,  and  you  are  too  fine  a 
mathematician  to  fall  behind  for  want  of  supplies.  So  I 
telephoned  one  of  our  Sophomores  to  bring  her  last  year's 
books  this  morning.  I  am  sorry  to  say  they  are  some- 
what abused,  but  .the  text  is  all  here.  You  can  have  them 
for  two  dollars,  and  pay  when  you  get  ready.  Would  you 
care  to  take  them?" 

Elnora  sat  suddenly,  because  she  could  not  stand  an- 
other instant.  She  reached  both  hands  for  the  books,  and 
said  never  a  word.     The  professor  was  silent  also. 

At  last  Elnora  arose,  hugging  those  books  to  her  heart 
as  a  mother  grasps  a  lost  baby. 

"One  thing  more,"  said  the  professor.  "You  can  pay 
your  tuition  quarterly.  You  need  not  bother  about  the 
first  instalment  this  month.  Any  time  in  October  will 
do." 

It  seemed  as  if  Elnora's  gasp  of  relief  must  have  reached 
the  soles  of  her  brogans. 

"Did  any  one  ever  tell  you  how  beautiful  you  are!"  she 
cried. 

As  the  professor  was  lank,  tow-haired  and  so  near- 
sighted that  he  peered  at  his  pupils  through  spectacles, 
no  one  ever  had. 

"No,"  said  Professor  Henley;  "I've  waited  some  time 
for  that;  for  which  reason  I  shall  appreciate  it  all  the  more. 
Come,  now,  or  we  shall  be  late  for  opening  exercises." 


44  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

So  Elnora  entered  the  auditorium  a  second  time.  Her 
face  was  like  the  brightest  dawn  that  ever  broke  over  the 
Limberlost.  No  matter  about  the  lumbering  shoes  and 
skimpy  dress  just  now.  No  matter  about  anything,  she 
had  the  books.  She  could  take  them  home.  In  her 
garret  she  could  commit  them  to  memory,  if  need  be. 
She  could  show  that  clothes  were  not  all.  If  the  Bird 
Woman  did  not  want  any  of  the  many  different  kinds  of 
specimens  she  had  collected,  she  was  quite  sure  now  she 
could  sell  ferns,  nuts,  and  a  great  many  things.  Then, 
too,  some  one  moved  over  this  morning,  and  several  girls 
smiled  and  bowed.  Elnora  forgot  everything  save  her 
books,  and  that  she  was  where  she  could  use  them  in- 
telligently —  everything  except  one  little  thing  away 
back  in  her  head.  Her  mother  had  known  about  the 
books  and  the  tuition,  and  had  not  told  her  when  she 
agreed  to  her  coming. 

At  noon  Elnora  took  her  little  parcel  of  lunch  and 
started  to  the  home  of  the  Bird  Woman.  She  must 
know  about  the  specimens  first  and  then  she  would  go 
out  to  the  suburbs  somewhere  "and  eat  a  few  bites.  She 
dropped  the  heavy  iron  knocker  on  the  door  of  the 
big  red  log  cabin,  and  her  heart  thumped  at  the  resound- 
ing stroke. 

"Is  the  Bird  Woman  at  home?"  she  asked  of  the  maid. 

"  She  is  at  lunch,"  was  the  answer. 

"Please  ask  her  if  she  will  see  a  girl  from  the  Limberlost 
about  some  moths?"  inquired  Elnora. 

"I  never  need  ask,  if  it's  moths,"  laughed  the  girl. 


ELNORA  VISITS  THE  BIRD  WOMAN       45 

"Orders  are  to  bring  any  one  with  specimens  right  in- 
Come  this  way." 

Elnora  followed  down  the  hall  and  entered  a  long  room 
with  high  panelled  wainscoting,  old  English  fireplace  with 
an  overmantel  and  closets  of  peculiar  china  filling  the 
corners.  At  a  bare  table  of  oak,  yellow  as  gold,  sat  a 
woman  Elnora  often  had  watched  and  followed  covertly 
around  the  Limberlost.  The  Bird  Woman  was  holding 
out  a  hand  of  welcome. 

"I  heard!"  she  laughed.  "A  little  pasteboard  box,  or 
just  the  bare  word  'specimen,'  passes  you  at  my  door.  If 
it  is  moths  I  hope  you  have  hundreds.  I've  been  very  busy 
all  summer  and  unable  to  collect,  and  I  need  so  many. 
Sit  down  and  lunch  with  me,  while  we  talk  it  over.  From 
the  Limberlost,  did  you  say?" 

"I  live  near  the  swamp,"  replied  Elnora.  "Since  it's 
so  cleared  I  dare  go  around  the  edge  in  daytime,  though 
we  are  still  afraid  at  night." 

"What  have  you  collected?"  asked  the  Bird  Woman, 
as  she  helped  Elnora  to  sandwiches  unlike  any  she  ever 
before  had  tasted,  salad  that  seemed  to  be  made  of  many 
familiar  things,  but  you  were  only  sure  of  celery  and  apples 
and  a  cup  of  hot  chocolate  that  would  have  delighted  any 
hungry  schoolgirl. 

Elnora  said,  "Thank  you,"  and  set  the  things  before 
her,  but  her  eyes  were  on  the  Bird  Woman's  face. 

"I  am  afraid  I  am  bothering  you  for  nothing,  and  im- 
posing on  you,"  she  said.  "That  'collected'  frightens 
me.     I've  only  gathered.     I  always  loved  everything  out- 


46  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

doors,  and  so  I  made  friends  and  playmates  of  them. 
When  I  learned  that  the  moths  die  so  soon,  I  saved  them 
especially,  because  there  seemed  no  wickedness  in  it." 

"I  have  thought  the  same  thing,"  said  the  Bird  Woman 
encouragingly.  Then  because  the  girl  could  not  eat  until 
she  learned  about  the  moths,  the  Bird  Woman  asked 
Elnora  if  she  knew  what  kinds  she  had. 

"Not  all  of  them,"  answered  Elnora.  "Before  Mr. 
Duncan  moved  away  he  often  saw  me  near  the  edge  of 
the  swamp,  and  he  showed  me  the  box  he  had  fixed  for 
Freckles,  and  gave  me  the  key.  There  were  some  books 
and  things,  so  from  that  time  on  I  studied  and  tried  to  take 
moths  right,  but  I  am  afraid  they  are  not  what  you  want." 

"Are  they  the  big  ones  that  fly  mostly  June  nights?" 
asked  the  Bird  Woman. 

"Yes,"  said  Elnora.  "Great  gray  ones  with  reddish 
markings,  pale  blue-green,  yellow  with  lavender,  and  red 
and  yellow." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  'red  and  yellow?'"  asked  the 
Bird  Woman  so  quickly  that  the  girl  almost  jumped. 

"Not  exactly  red,"  explained  Elnora,  with  tremulous 
voice.  "A  reddish,  yellowish  brown,  with  canary-coloured 
spots  and  gray  lines  on  their  wings." 

"How  many  of  them?"  It  was  the  same  quick  ques- 
tion. 

"Well,  I  had  over  two  hundred  eggs,"  said  Elnora,  "but 
some  of  them  didn't  hatch,  and  some  of  the  caterpillars 
died,  but  there  must  be  at  least  a  hundred  perfect  ones." 

"Perfect!     How,  perfect?"  cried  the  Bird  Woman. 


ELNORA  VISITS  THE  BIRD  WOMAN       47 

"I  mean  whole  wings,  no  down  gone,  and  all  their  legs 
and  antennae,"  faltered  Elnora. 

"Young  woman,  that's  the  rarest  moth  in  America," 
said  the  Bird  Woman  solemnly.  "If  you  have  a  hundred 
of  them,  they  are  worth  a  hundred  dollars  according  to  my 
list.     I  can  use  all  that  are  whole." 

"What  if  they  are  not  pinned  right,"  quavered  Elnora. 

"If  they  are  perfect,  that  does  not  make  the  slightest 
difference.  I  know  how  to  soften  them  so  that  I  can  put 
them  into  any  shape  I  choose.  Where  are  they?  When 
may  I  see  them?" 

"They  are  in  Freckles's  old  case  in  the  Limberlost," 
said  Elnora.  "I  couldn't  carry  many  for  fear  of  breaking 
them,  but  I  could  bring  a  few  after  school." 

"You  come  here  at  four,"  said  the  Bird  Woman,  "and 
we  will  drive  out  with  some  specimen  boxes,  and  a  price 
list,  and  see  what  you  have  to  sell.  Are  they  your  very 
own?     Are  you  free  to  part  with  them?" 

"They  are  mine,"  said  Elnora.  "No  one  but  God 
knows  I  have  them.  Mr.  Duncan  gave  me  the  books  and 
the  box.  He  told  Freckles  about  me,  and  Freckles  told 
him  to  give  me  all  he  left.  He  said  for  me  to  stick  to  the 
swamp  and  be  brave,  and  my  hour  would  come;  it  has!  I 
know  most  of  them  are  all  right,  and  oh,  I  do  need  the 
money!" 

"Could  you  tell  me?"  asked  the  Bird  Woman  softly. 

"You  see,  the  swamp  and  all  the  fields  around  it  are  so 
full,"  explained  Elnora.  "Every  day  I  felt  smaller  and 
smaller,  and  I  wanted  to  know  more  and  more,  and  pretty 


48  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

soon  I  got  desperate,  just  as  Freckles  did.  But  I  am  bet- 
ter off  than  he  was,  for  I  have  his  books,  and  I  have  a 
mother;  even  if  she  don't  care  for  me  as  other  girls' 
mothers  do  for  them,  it's  better  than  no  one." 

The  Bird  Woman's  glance  fell,  for  the  girl  was  not  con- 
scious of  how  much  she  was  revealing.  Her  eyes  were 
fixed  on  a  black  pitcher  filled  with  goldenrod  in  the  centre 
of  the  table  and  she  was  saying  what  she  thought. 

"As  long  as  I  could  go  to  the  Brushwood  school  I  was 
happy,  but  I  couldn't  go  further  just  when  things  got  the 
most  interesting,  so  I  was  bound  Fd  come  to  high  school 
and  mother  wouldn't  consent.  You  see  there's  plenty 
of  land,  but  father  was  drowned  when  I  was  a  baby,  and 
mother  and  I  can't  make  money  as  men  do.  The  taxes 
get  bigger  every  year,  and  she  said  it  was  too  expensive. 
I  wouldn't  give  her  any  rest,  until  at  last  she  got  me  this 
dress,  and  these  shoes  and  I  came.     It  was  awful!" 

Elnora  stopped  short  and  stared  into  the  Bird  Woman's 
face. 

"Do  you  live  in  that  beautiful  cabin  at  the  northwest 
end  of  the  swamp?"  asked  the  Bird  Woman. 

"Yes,"  said  Elnora. 

"  I  remember  the  place  and  a  story  about  it  now.  You 
entered  the  high  school  yesterday?" 

"Yes." 

"It  was  pretty  bad?" 

"Pretty  bad!"  echoed  Elnora. 

The  Bird  Woman  laughed. 

"You  can't  tell  me  anything  about  that,"  she  said. 


ELNORA  VISITS  THE  BIRD  WOMAN       49 

"I  once  entered  a  city  school  straight  from  the  country. 
My  dress  was  brown  calico,  and  my  shoes  were  quite 
heavy." 

The  tears  began  to  roll  down  Elnora's  cheeks. 

"Did   they ?"she  faltered. 

"They  did!"  said  the  Bird  Woman.  "All  of  it.  I  am 
quite  sure  they  did  not  miss  one  least  little  thing." 

Then  she  wiped  away  some  tears  that  began  rolling 
down  her  cheeks,  and  laughed  at  the  same  time. 

"Where  are  they  now?"  asked  Elnora  suddenly. 

"Well,  they  are  pretty  widely  scattered,  but  none  of 
them  have  attained  heights  out  of  range.  Some  of  the 
rich  are  poor,  and  some  of  the  poor  are  rich.  Some  of  the 
brightest  died  insane,  and  some  of  the  dullest  worked 
out  high  positions.  Some  of  the  very  worst  to  bear  have 
gone  out,  and  I  frequently  hear  from  others.  Now  I  am 
here,  able  to  remember  it,  and  mingle  laughter  with  what 
used  to  be  all  tears;  for  every  day  I  have  my  beautiful 
work,  and  almost  every  day  God  sends  some  one  like  you 
to  help  me.     What  is  your  name,  my  girl?" 

"Elnora  Comstock,"  answered  Elnora.  "Yesterday  on 
the  board  it  changed  to  Cornstock,  and  for  a  minute  I 
thought  I'd  die,  but  I  can  laugh  over  that  already." 

The  Bird  Woman  arose  and  kissed  her.  "Finish  your 
lunch,"  she  said,  "and  I  will  get  my  price  lists,  and  take 
down  a  memorandum  of  what  you  think  you  have,  so  I  will 
know  how  many  boxes  to  prepare.  And  remember  this : 
What  you  are  lies  with  you.  If  you  are  lazy,  and  accept 
your  lot,  you  may  live  in  it.     If  you  are  willing  to  work, 


So  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

you  can  write  your  name  anywhere  you  choose,  among  the 
only  ones  who  live  past  the  grave  in  this  world — the  people 
who  write  books  that  help,  make  exquisite  music,  carve 
statues,  paint  pictures,  and  work  for  others.  Never  mind 
the  calico  dress,  and  the  coarse  shoes.  Dig  into  the  books, 
and  before  long  you  will  hear  yesterday's  tormentors 
boasting  that  they  were  once  classmates  of  yours.  'I 
could  a  tale  unfold' !" 

She  laughingly  left  the  room  and  Elnora  sat  thinking, 
until  she  remembered  how  hungry  she  was,  so  she  ate  the 
food,  drank  the  hot  chocolate  and  began  the  process  of 
getting  a  grip  on  herself. 

Then  the  Bird  Woman  came  back  and  showed  Elnora 
a  long  printed  slip  giving  a  list  of  graduated  prices  for 
moths,  butterflies  and  dragon-flies. 

"Oh,  do  you  want  them!"  exulted  Elnora.  "I  have  a 
few  and  I  can  get  more  by  the  thousand,  with  every  colour 
in  the  world  on  their  wings." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Bird  Woman,  "I  will  buy  them;  also 
the  big  moth  caterpillars  that  are  creeping  everywhere 
now,  and  the  cocoons  that  they  will  spin  just  about  this 
time.  I  have  a  sneaking  impression  that  the  mystery, 
wonder,  and  the  urge  of  their  pure  beauty  are  going  to 
force  me  to  picture  and  paint  our  moths  and  put  them  into 
a  book  for  all  the  world  to  see  and  know.  We  Limberlost 
people  must  not  be  selfish  with  the  wonders  God  has  given 
to  us.  We  must  share  with  those  poor  cooped-up  city 
people  the  best  we  can.  To  send  them  a  beautiful  book, 
that  is  the  way,  is  it  not,  little  new  friend  of  mine?" 


ELNORA  VISITS  THE  BIRD  WOMAN        51 

"Yes,  oh,  yes!"  cried  Elnora.  "And  please  God  they 
find  a  way  to  earn  the  money  to  buy  the  books,  as  I  have 
those  I  need  so  badly." 

"I  will  pay  good  prices  for  all  the  moths  you  can  find," 
said  the  Bird  Woman,  "because  you  see  I  exchange  them 
with  foreign  collectors.  I  want  a  complete  series  of  the 
moths  of  America  to  trade  with  a  German  scientist,  an- 
other with  a  man  in  India,  and  another  in  Brazil.  Others 
I  can  exchange  with  home  collectors  for  those  of  California 
and  Canada,  so  you  see  I  can  use  all  you  can  raise,  or  find. 
The  banker  will  buy  stone  axes,  arrow  points,  and  Indian 
pipes.  There  was  a  teacher  from  the  city  grade  schools 
here  to-day  for  specimens.  There  is  a  fund  to  supply  the 
ward  buildings.  I'll  help  you  get  in  touch  with  that. 
They  want  leaves  of  different  trees,  flowers,  grasses,  moths, 
insects,  birds'  nests  and  anything  about  birds." 

Elnora's.  eyes  were  blazing.  "Had  I  best  go  back  to 
school  or  open  a  bank  account  and  begin  being  a  million- 
aire ?  Uncle  Wesley  and  I  have  a  bushel  of  arrow  points 
gathered,  a  stack  of  axes,  pipes,  skin-dressing  tools,  tubes 
and  mortars.  I  don't  know  how  I  ever  will  wait  three 
hours." 

"You  must  go,  or  you  will  be  late,"  said  the  Bird 
Woman.     "I  will  be  ready  at  four." 

After  school  closed  Elnora,  seated  by  the  Bird  Woman, 
drove  to  Freckles's  old  room  in  the  Limberlost.  One  at 
a  time  the  beautiful  big  moths  were  taken  from  the  interior 
of  the  old  black  case.  Not  a  fourth  of  them  could  be 
moved  that  night,  and  it  was  almost  dark  when  the  last  box 


52  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

was  closed,  the  list  figured,  and  into  Elnora's  trembling 
fingers  were  paid  fifty-nine  dollars  and  sixteen  cents. 
Elnora  clasped  the  money  closely. 

"Oh,  you  beautiful  stuff!"  she  cried.  "You  are  going 
to  buy  the  books,  pay  the  tuition,  and  take  me  to  high 
school." 

Then  because  she  was  a  woman,  she  sat  on  a  log  and 
looked  at  her  shoes.  Long  after  the  Bird  Woman  drove 
away  Elnora  remained.  She  had  her  problem,  and  it  was 
a  big  one.  If  she  told  her  mother,  would  she  take  the 
money  to  pay  the  taxes  ?  If  she  did  not  tell  her,  how  could 
she  account  for  the  books,  and  things  for  which  she  would 
spend  it.  At  last  she  counted  out  what  she  needed  for  the 
next  day,  placed  the  rest  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  case, 
and  locked  the  door.  She  then  filled  the  front  of  her 
skirt  from  a  heap  of  arrow  points  beneath  the  case  and 
started  home. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Wherein      the     Sintons    Are     Disappointed,     and 
Mrs.  Comstock  Learns  That  She  Can  Laugh 

With  the  first  streak  of  red  above  the  Limberlost  Mar- 
garet Sinton  was  busy  with  the  gingham  and  the  intricate 
paper  pattern  she  had  purchased.  Wesley  cooked  the  break- 
fast and  worked  until  he  thought  Elnora  would  be  gone, 
then  he  started  to  bring  her  mother. 

"Now  you  be  mighty  careful,"  cautioned  Margaret. 
"I  don't  know  how  she  will  take  it." 

"I  don't  either,"  said  Wesley  philosophically,  "but 
she's  got  to  take  it  some  way.  That  dress  has  to  be  fin- 
ished by  school  time  in  the  morning." 

Wesley  had  not  slept  well  that  night.  He  had  been 
so  busy  framing  diplomatic  speeches  to  make  to  Mrs. 
Comstock  that  sleep  had  little  chance  with  him. 
Every  step  nearer  to  her  he  approached  his  position 
seemed  less  enviable.  By  the  time  he  reached  the 
front  gate  and  started  down  the  walk  between  the 
rows  of  asters  and  lady  slippers  he  was  perspiring, 
and  every  plausible  and  convincing  speech  had  fled 
his  brain.  Mrs.  Comstock  helped  him.  She  met  him 
at  the  door. 

S3 


54  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Good  morning,"  she  said.  "Did  Margaret  send  you 
for  something?" 

"Yes,"  said  Wesley.  "She  sent  me  for  you.  She's 
got  a  job  that's  too  big  for  her,  and  she  wants  you  to 
help." 

"Of  course  I  will,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  It  was  no 
one's  affair  how  lonely  the  previous  day  had  been,  or  how 
the  endless  hours  of  the  present  would  drag.  "What  is 
she  doing  in  such  a  rush?" 

Now  was  his  chance. 

"She's  making  a  dress  for  Elnora,"  answered  Wesley. 
He  saw  Mrs.  Comstock's  form  straighten,  and  her  face 
harden,  so  he  continued  hastily.  "You  see,  Elnora  has 
been  helping  us  at  harvest  time,  butchering,  and  with  un- 
expected visitors  for  years.  We've  made  out  that  she's 
saved  us  a  considerable  sum,  and  as  she  wouldn't  ever 
touch  any  pay  for  anything,  we  just  went  to  town  and  got 
a  few  clothes  we  thought  would  fix  her  up  a  little  for  the 
high  school.  We  want  to  get  a  dress  done  to-day  mighty 
bad,  but  Margaret  is  slow  about  sewing,  and  she  never 
can  finish  alone,  so  I  came  for  you." 

"And  it's  such  a  simple  little  matter,  so  dead  easy,  and 
all  so  between  old  friends  like,  that  you  can't  look  above 
your  boots  while  you  explain  it,"  sneered  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"Wesley  Sinton,  what  put  the  idea  into  your  head  that 
Elnora  would  take  things  bought  with  money,  when  she 
wouldn't  take  the  money?" 

Then  Sinton's  eyes  came  up  straightly. 

"Finding  her  on  the  trail  last  night  sobbing  as  hard  as 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        55 

I  ever  saw  any  one  at  a  funeral.  She  wasn't  complaining 
at  all,  but  she's  come  to  me  all  her  life  with  her  little  hurts, 
and  she  couldn't  hide  how  she'd  been  laughed  at,  twitted, 
and  run  face  to  face  against  the  fact  that  there  was  books 
and  tuition,  unexpected,  and  nothing  will  ever  make  me 
believe  you  didn't  know  that,  Kate  Comstock." 

"If  any  doubts  are  troubling  you  on  that  subject,  sure 
I  knew  it!  She  was  so  anxious  to  try  the  world,  I  thought 
I'd  just  let  her  take  a  few  knocks  and  see  how  she  liked  it." 

"As  if  she'd  ever  taken  anything  but  knocks  all  her 
life!"  cried  Wesley  Sinton.  "Kate  Comstock,  you  are 
a  heartless,  selfish  woman.  You've  never  showed  Elnora 
any  real  love  in  her  life.  If  ever  she  finds  out  that  thing 
you'll  lose  her,  and  it  will  serve  you  right." 

"She  knows  it  now,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock  icily,  "and 
she'll  be  home  to-night  just  as  usual." 

"Well,  you  are  a  brave  woman  if  you  dared  put  a  girl 
of  Elnora's  make  through  what  she  suffered  yesterday, 
and  will  suffer  again  to-day,  and  let  her  know  you  did  it 
on  purpose.  I  admire  your  nerve.  But  I've  watched 
this  since  Elnora  was  born,  and  I  got  enough.  Things 
have  come  to  a  pass  where  they  go  better  for  her,  or  I 
interfere."  * 

"As  if  you'd  ever  done  anything  but  interfere  all  her 
life!  Think  I  haven't  watched  you?  Think  I,  with  my 
heart  raw  in  my  breast,  and  too  numb  to  resent  it  openly, 
haven't  seen  you  and  Mag  Sinton  trying  to  turn  Elnora 
against  me  day  after  day?  When  did  you  ever  tell  her 
.what  her  father  meant  to  me?     When  did  you  ever  try  to 


56  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

make  her  see  the  wreck  of  my  life,  and  what  I've  suffered? 
No  indeed!  Always  it's  been  poor  little  abused  Elnora, 
and  cakes,  kissing,  extra  clothes,  and  encouraging  her  to 
run  to  you  with  a  pitiful  mouth  every  time  I  tried  to  make 
a  woman  of  her." 

"Kate  Comstock,  that's  unjust,"  cried  Sinton.  "Only 
last  night  I  tried  to  show  her  the  picture  I  saw  the  day  she 
was  born.  I  begged  her  to  come  to  you  and  tell  you  pleas- 
ant what  she  needed,  and  ask  you  for  what  I  happen  to 
know  you  can  well  afford  to  give  her." 

"I  can't!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "You  know  I  can't!" 

"Then  get  so  you  can!"  said  Wesley  Sinton.  "Any 
day  you  say  the  word  you  can  sell  six  thousand  worth  of 
rare  timber  off  this  place  easy.  I'll  see  to  clearing  and 
working  the  fields  cheap  as  dirt,  for  Elnora's  sake.  I'll 
buy  you  more  cattle  to  fatten.  All  you've  got  to  do  is 
sign  a  lease,  to  pull  thousands  from  the  ground  in  oil,  as 
the  rest  of  us  are  doing  all  around  you." 

"Cut  down  Robert's  trees!"  shrieked  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"Tear  up  his  land!  Cover  everything  with  horrid,  greasy 
oil!     I'll  die  first!" 

"You  mean  you'll  let  Elnora  go  like  a  beggar,  and  hurt 
and  mortify  her  past  bearing.  I've  got  to  the  place  where 
I  tell  you  plain  what  I  am  going  to  do.  Maggie  and  I 
went  to  town  last  night,  and  we  got  what  things  Elnora 
needs  most  urgent  to  make  her  look  a  little  like  the  rest  of 
the  high  school  girls.  Now  here  it  is  in  plain  English. 
You  can  help  get  these  things  ready,  and  let  us  give  them 
to  her  as  we  want " 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        57 

"She  won't  touch  them!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"Then  you  can  pay  us,  and  she  can  take  them  as  her 
right " 

"I  won't!" 

"Then  I  will  tell  Elnora  just  what  you  are  worth,  what 
you  can  afford,  and  how  much  of  this  she  owns.  I'll  loan 
her  the  money  to  buy  books  and  decent  clothes,  and  when 
she  is  of  age  she  can  sell  her  share  and  pay  me." 

Mrs.  Comstock  gripped  a  chair-back  and  opened  her 
lips,  but  no  words  came. 

"And,"  Sinton  continued,  "if  she  is  so  much  like  you 
that  she  won't  do  that,  I'll  go  to  the  county  seat  and  lay 
complaint  against  you  as  her  guardian  before  the  judge. 
I'll  swear  to  what  you  are  worth,  and  how  you  are  raising 
her,  and  have  you  discharged,  or  have  the  judge  appoint 
some  man  who  will  see  that  she  is  comfortable,  educated 
and  decent  looking!" 

"You — 'you  wouldn't!"  gasped  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"I  won't  need  to,  Kate!"  said  Sinton,  his  heart  soften- 
ing the  instant  the  hard  words  were  said.  "You  won't 
show  it,  but  you  do  love  Elnora!  You  can't  help  it! 
You  must  see  how  she  needs  things;  come  help  us  fix  them, 
and  be  friends.  Maggie  and  I  couldn't  live  without  her, 
and  you  couldn't  either.  You've  got  to  love  such  a  fine 
girl  as  she  is;  let  it  show  a  little!" 

"You  can  hardly  expect  me  to  love  her,"  said  Mrs. 
Comstock  coldly.  "But  for  her  a  man  would  stand  back 
to  me  now,  who  would  beat  the  breath  out  of  your  sneak- 
ing body  for  the  cowardly  thing  with  which  you  threaten 


58  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

me.  After  all  I've  suffered  you'd  drag  me  to  court  and 
compel  me  to  tear  up  Robert's  property.  If  I  ever  go  they 
carry  me.  If  they  touch  one  tree,  or  put  down  one 
greasy  old  oil  well,  it  will  be  over  all  I  can  shoot,  before 
they  begin.  Now,  see  how  quick  you  can  clear  out  of 
here!" 

"You  won't  come  and  help  Maggie  with  the  dress?" 

For  answer  Mrs.  Comstock  looked  about  swiftly  for 
some  object  on  which  to  lay  her  hands.  Knowing  her 
temper,  Wesley  Sinton  left  with  all  the  haste  consistent 
with  dignity.  But  he  did  not  go  home.  He  crossed  a 
field,  and  in  an  hour  brought  another  neighbour  who  was 
skilful  with  her  needle.  With  sinking  heart  Margaret 
saw  them  coming. 

"Kate  is  too  busy  to  help  to-day;  she  can't  sew  before 
to-morrow,"  said  Wesley  cheerfully  as  they  entered. 

That  quieted  Margaret's  apprehension  a  little,  though 
she  had  some  doubts.  Wesley  prepared  the  lunch,  and 
by  four  o'clock  the  pretty  dress  was  finished  as  far  as  it 
possibly  could  be  until  it  was  fitted  on  Elnora.  If  that 
did  not  entail  too  much  work,  it  could  be  completed  in  two 
hours. 

Then  the  neighbour  left  and  Margaret  packed  their 
purchases  into  the  big  market  basket.  Wesley  took  the 
hat,  umbrella,  and  raincoat,  and  they  went  down  to  Mrs. 
Comstock's.  As  they  reached  the  step,  Margaret  spoke 
pleasantly  to  Mrs.  Comstock,  who  sat  reading  just  inside 
the  door,  but  she  did  not  answer  and  deliberately  turned 
a  leaf  without  looking  up. 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        59 

Wesley  Sinton  opened  the  door  and  went  in,  followed  by 
Margaret. 

"Kate,"  he  said,  "you  needn't  take  out  your  mad  over 
our  little  racket  on  Maggie.  I  ain't  told  her  a  word  I  said 
to  you,  or  you  said  to  me.  She's  not  so  very  strong,  and 
she's  sewed  since  four  o'clock  this  morning  to  get  this 
dress  ready  for  to-morrow.  It's  done  and  we  came  down 
to  try  it  on  Elnora." 

"Is  that  the  truth,  Mag  Sinton?"  demanded  Mrs. 
Comstock. 

"You  heard  Wesley  say  so,"  proudly  affirmed  Mrs. 
Sinton. 

"I  want  to  make  you  a  proposition,"  said  Wesley. 
"Wait  till  Elnora  comes.  Then  we'll  show  her  the  things 
and  see  what  she  says." 

"How  would  it  do  to  see  what  she  says  without  bribing 
her,"  sneered  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"If  she  can  stand  what  she  did  yesterday,  and  will  to- 
day, she  can  bear  'most  anything,"  said  Wesley.  "Put 
away  the  clothes  if  you  want  to,  till  we  tell  her." 

"Well,  you  don't  take  this  waist  I'm  working  on,"  said 
Margaret,  "for  I  have  to  baste  in  the  sleeves  and  set  the 
collar.     Put  the  rest  out  of  sight  if  you  like." 

Mrs.  Comstock  picked  up  the  basket  and  bundles, 
placed  them  inside  her  room  and  closed  the  door. 

Margaret  threaded  her  needle  and  began  to  sew.  Mrs. 
Comstock  returned  to  her  book,  while  Wesley  fidgeted 
and  raged  inwardly.  He  could  see  that  Margaret  was 
nervous  and  almost  in  tears,  but  the  lines  in  Mrs.  Com- 


60  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

stock's  impassive  face  were  set  and  cold.  So  they  sat  and 
the  clock  ticked  off  the  time  —  one  hour,  two,  dusk,  and 
no  Elnora.  Margaret  long  since  had  taken  the  last  stitch 
she  could.  Occasionally  she  and  Wesley  exchanged  a  few 
words.  Mrs.  Comstock  regularly  turned  a  leaf,  and  once 
arose  and  moved  nearer  a  window.  Just  when  Margaret 
and  Wesley  were  discussing  whether  he  had  not  best  go 
to  town  to  meet  Elnora,  they  heard  her  coming  up  the 
walk.  Wesley  dropped  his  tilted  chair  and  squared  him- 
self. Margaret  gripped  her  sewing,  and  turned  pleading 
eyes  to  the  door.  Mrs.  Comstock  closed  her  book  and 
grimly  smiled. 

"Mother,  please  open  the  door,"  called  Elnora. 

Mrs.  Comstock '  arose,  and  swung  open  the  screen. 
Elnora  stepped  in  beside  her,  bent  half  double,  the  whole 
front  of  her  dress  gathered  into  a  sort  of  bag  filled  with  a 
heavy  load,  and  one  arm  stacked  high  with  books.  In 
the  dim  light  she  did  not  see  the  Sintons. 

"Please  hand  me  the  empty  bucket  in  the  kitchen, 
mother,"  she  said.  "I  just  had  to  bring  these  arrow 
points  home,  but  I'm  scared  for  fear  I've  soiled  my  dress 
and  will  have  to  wash  it.  I'm  to  clean  them,  and  take 
them  to  the  banker  in  the  morning,  and  oh,  mother,  I've 
sold  enough  stuff  to  pay  for  my  books,  my  tuition,  and 
maybe  a  dress  and  some  lighter  shoes  besides.  Oh, 
mother,  I'm  so  happy!  Take  the  books  and  bring  the 
bucket!" 

Then  she  saw  Margaret  and  Wesley.  "Oh,  glory!"  she 
exulted.     "I  was  just  wondering  how  I'd  ever  wait  to  tell 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        61 

you,  and  here  you  are!  It's  too  perfectly  splendid  to  be 
true!" 

"Tell  us,  Elnora,"  said  Sinton. 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Elnora,  doubling  down  on  the  floor 
and  spreading  out  her  skirt,  "set  the  bucket  here,  mother. 
These  points  are  brittle  and  have  to  be  put  in  one  at  a  time. 
If  they  are  chipped  I  can't  sell  them.  Well,  sir!  I've 
had  a  time!  You  know  I  just  had  to  have  books.  I  tried 
three  stores,  and  they  wouldn't  trust  me,  not  even  three 
days;  I  didn't  know  what  in  this  world  I  could  do  quickly 
enough.  Just  when  I  was  about  frantic  I  saw  a  sign  in  a 
bank  window  asking  for  caterpillars,  cocoons,  butter- 
flies, arrow  points,  and  everything.  I  went  in,  and  it  was 
this  Bird  Woman  wants  the  insects,  and  the  banker  wants 
the  stones.  I  had  to  go  to  school  then,  but,  if  you'll  be- 
lieve it"  —  Elnora  beamed  on  all  of  them  in  turn  as  she 
talked  and  slipped  the  arrow  points  from  her  dress  to  the 
pail  —  "if  you'll  believe  it  —  but  you  won't,  hardly,  un- 
til you  look  at  the  books  —  there  was  the  mathematics 
teacher,  waiting  at  his  door,  and  he  had  a  set  of  books  for 
me  that  he  had  telephoned  a  Sophomore  to  bring. 

"How  did  he  happen  to  do  that,  Elnora?"  interrupted 
Sinton. 

Elnora  blushed. 

"It  was  a  fool  mistake  I  made  yesterday  in  thinking 
books  were  just  handed  out  to  you.  There  was  a  teachers' 
meeting  last  night  and  the  history  teacher  told  about  that. 
Professor  Henley  thought  it  was  me.  You  know  I  told 
you  what  he  said  about  my  algebra,  mother.     Ain't  I 


62  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

glad  I  studied  out  some  of  it  myself  this  summer!  So  he 
just  telephoned  and  a  girl  brought  the  books.  Because 
they  are  marked  and  abused  some  I  get  the  whole  outfit 
for  two  dollars.  I  can  erase  most  of  the  marks,  paste 
down  the  covers,  and  fix  them  so  they  look  better.  But  I 
must  hurry  to  the  joy  part.  I  didn't  stop  to  eat,  at  noon. 
I  just  ran  to  the  Bird  Woman's,  and  I  had  lunch  with 
her.  It  was  salad,  hot  chocolate,  and  lovely  things, 
and  she  wants  to  buy  most  every  old  scrap  I  ever 
gathered.  She  wants  dragon-flies,  moths,  butterflies, 
and  he  —  the  banker,  I  mean  —  wants  everything 
Indian.  This  very  night  she  came  to  the  swamp 
with  me  and  took  away  enough  stuff"  to  pay  for  the 
books  and  tuition,  and  to-morrow  she  is  going  to  buy 
some  more." 

Elnora  laid  the  last  arrow  point  in  the  pail  and  arose, 
shaking  leaves  and  bits  of  baked  earth  from  her  dress. 
She  reached  into  her  pocket  and  produced  her  money  and 
waved  it  before  their  wondering  eyes. 

"And  that's  the  joy  part!"  she  exulted.  "Put  it  up 
in  the  clock  till  morning,  mother.     That  pays  for  the 

books  and  tuition  and "     Elnora  hesitated,  for  she 

saw  the  nervous  grasp  with  which  her  mother's  fingers 
closed  on  the  bills.  Then  she  went  on,  but  more  slowly 
and  thinking  before  she  spoke. 

"What  I  get  to-morrow  pays  for  more  books  and  tuition, 
and  maybe  a  few,  just  a  few,  things  to  wear.  These  shoes 
are  so  dreadfully  heavy  and  hot,  and  they  make  such  a 
noise  on  the  floor.     There  isn't  another  calico  dress  in  the 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        63 

whole  building,  not  among  hundreds  of  us.  Why,  what 
is  that?  Aunt  Margaret,  what  are  you  hiding  in  your 
lap?" 

She  snatched  the  waist  and  shook  it  out,  and  her  face 
was  beaming.  "Have  you  taken  to  waists  all  fancy  and 
buttoned  in  the  back?     I  bet  you  this  is  mine!" 

"I  bet  you  so,  too,"  said  Margaret  Sinton.  "You  un- 
dress right  away  and  try  it  on,  and  if  it  fits,  it  will  be  done 
for  morning.     There  are  some  low  shoes,  too!" 

Elnora  began  to  dance.  "Oh,  you  dear  people!"  she 
cried.  "I  can  pay  for  them  to-morrow  night!  Isn't  it 
too  splendid !  I  was  just  thinking  on  the  way  home  that 
I  certainly  would  be  compelled  to  have  cooler  shoes  until 
later,  and  I  was  wondering  what  I'd  do  when  the  fall 
rains  begin." 

"I  meant  to  get  you  some  heavy  dress  skirts  and  a  coat 
then,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"I  know  you  said  so!"  cried  Elnora.  "But  you 
needn't  now!  I  can  get  every  single  stitch  I  need  myself. 
Next  summer  I  can  gather  up  a  lot  more  stuff,  and  all 
winter  on  the  way  to  school.  I  am  sure  I  can  sell  ferns, 
I  know  I  can  nuts,  and  the  Bird  Woman  says  the  grade 
rooms  want  leaves,  grasses,  birds'  nests,  and  cocoons. 
Oh,  isn't  this  world  lovely!  I'll  be  helping  with  the  tax, 
next,  mother!" 

Elnora  waved  the  waist  and  started  for  the  bedroom. 
When  she  opened  the  door  she  gave  a  little  cry. 

"What  have  you  people  been  doing?"  she  demanded. 
"I  never  saw  so  many  interesting  bundles  in  all  my  life. 


64  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

I'm  '  skeered'  to  death  for  fear  I  can't  pay  for  all  of  them, 
and  will  have  to  give  up  something." 

"Wouldn't  you  take  them,  if  you  could  not  pay  for 
them,  Elnora?"  asked  her  mother  instantly. 

"Why,  not  unless  you  did,"  answered  Elnora.  "People 
have  no  right  to  wear  things  they  can't  afford,  have 
they?" 

"But  from  such  old  friends  as  Maggie  and  Wesley!" 
Mrs.  Comstock's  voice  was  oily  with  triumph. 

"From  them  least  of  all,"  cried  Elnora  stoutly.  "From 
a  stranger  sooner  than  from  them,  to  whom  I  owe  so  much 
more  than  I  ever  can  pay  now." 

"Well,  you  don't  have  to,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 
" Maggie  just  selected  these  things,  because  she  is  more 
in  touch  with  the  world,  and  has  got  such  good  taste. 
You  can  pay  as  long  as  your  money  holds  out,  and  if 
there's  more  necessary,  maybe  I  can  sell  the  butcher  a  calf, 
or  if  there's  things  too  costly  for  us,  of  course,  they  can 
take  them  back.  Anything  that  ain't  used  can  be  re- 
turned. They  were  only  brought  here  on  trial.  Put 
on  the  waist  now,  and  then  you  can  look  over  the  rest 
and  see  if  they  are  suitable,  and  what  you  want." 

Elnora  stepped  into  the  adjoining  room  and  closed  the 
door.  Mrs.  Comstock  picked  up  the  bucket  and  started 
for  the  well  with  it.     At  the  bedroom  she  paused. 

"Elnora,  were  you  going  to  wash  these  arrow  points?" 

"Yes.  The  Bird  Woman  says  they  sell  better  if  they 
are  clean,  so  it  can  be  seen  that  there  are  no  defects  in 
them." 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        65 

"Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Some  of  them 
seem  quite  baked.  Shail  I  put  them  to  soak?  Do  you 
want  to  take  them  in  the  morning?" 

"Yes,  I  do,"  answered  Elnora.  "If  you  would  just 
fill  the  pail  with  water." 

Mrs.  Comstock  left  the  room.  Wesley  Sinton  sat  with 
his  back  to  the  window  in  the  west  end  of  the  cabin  which 
overlooked  the  well.  A  suppressed  sound  behind  him 
caused  him  to  turn  quickly.  Then  he  arose  and  leaned 
over  Margaret. 

"She's  out  there  laughing  like  a  blamed  monkey!"  he 
whispered  indignantly. 

"Well,  she  can't  help  it!"  exclaimed  Margaret. 

"I'm  going  home!"  said  Wesley. 

"Oh,  no,  you  are  not!"  retorted  Margaret.  "You  are 
missing  the  point.  The  point  is  not  how  you  look,  or  feel. 
It  is  to  get  these  things  in  Elnora's  possession  past  dis- 
pute. You  go  now,  and  to-morrow  Elnora  will  wear 
calico,  and  Kate  Comstock  will  return  these  goods.  Right 
here  I  stay  until  everything  we  bought  is  Elnora's." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Wesley. 

"You'll  have  to  watch  me,"  said  Margaret.  "I  don't 
know  yet,  myself." 

Then  she  arose  and  peered  from  the  window.  At  the 
well  curb  stood  Katharine  Comstock.  The  strain  of  the 
day  was  finding  reaction.  Her  chin  was  in  the  air,  she 
was  heaving,  shaking,  and  strangling  to  suppress  any 
sound.  The  word  that  slipped  between  Margaret  Sin- 
ton's  lips  shocked  Wesley  until  he  dropped  on  his  chair,' 


66  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

and  recalled  her  to  her  senses.  She  was  fairly  composed 
as  she  turned  to  Elnora,  and  began  the  fitting.  When  she 
had  pinched,  pulled,  and  patted  she  called,  "Come  see  if 
you  think  this  fits,  Kate." 

Mrs.  Comstock  had  gone  around  to  the  back  door  and 
answered  from  the  kitchen.  "You  know  more  about  it 
than  I  do.  Go  ahead!  I'm  getting  supper.  Don't  for- 
get to  allow  for  what  it  will  shrink  in  washing!" 

"  I  set  the  colours  and  washed  the  goods  last  night;  it  can 
be  made  to  fit  right  now,"  answered  Margaret  past  the 
pins  between  her  teeth. 

When  she  could  find  nothing  more  to  alter  she  told 
Elnora  to  see  how  quickly  she  could  heat  a  pail  of  water. 
After  she  had  done  that  the  girl  began  opening  packages. 

The  hat  came  first. 

"Mother! "  cried  Elnora.  "Mother,  of  course,  you  have 
seen  this,  but  you  haven't  seen  it  on  me.     I  must  try  it  on." 

"Don't  you  dare  put  that  on  your  head  until  your  hair 
is  washed  and  properly  combed,"  said  Margaret. 

"Oh!"  cried  Elnora.  "Is  that  water  to  wash  my  hair? 
I  thought  it  was  to  set  the  colour  in  another  dress." 

"Well,  you  thought  wrong,"  said  Margaret  simply. 
"Your  hair  is  going  to  be  washed  and  brushed  until  it 
shines  like  copper.  While  it  dries  you  can  eat  your  supper, 
and  this  dress  will  be  finished.  Then  you  Can  put  on  your 
new  ribbon,  and  your  hat.  You  can  try  your  shoes  now, 
and  if  they  don't  fit,  you  and  Wesley  can  drive  to  town 
and  change  them.  That  little  round  bundle  on  the  top 
of  the  basket  is  your  stockings." 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        67 

Margaret  sat  down  and  began  sewing  swiftly,  and  a 
little  later  opened  the  machine,  and  ran  several  long 
seams. 

Elnora  was  back  in  a  few  minutes  holding  up  her  skirts 
and  stepping  daintily  in  the  beautiful  new  shoes. 

"Don't  soil  them,  honey,  else  you're  sure  they  fit," 
cautioned  Wesley. 

"They  seem  just  a  trifle  large,  maybe,"  said  Elnora 
dubiously,  and  Wesley  got  down  to  feel.  He  and  Mar- 
garet thought  them  a  fit,  and  then  Elnora  appealed  to  her 
mother.  Mrs.  Comstock  appeared  wiping  her  hands  on 
her  apron.     She  examined  the  shoes  critically. 

"They  seem  to  fit,"  she  said,  "but  they  are  away  too 
fine  to  walk  country  roads." 

"I  think  so,  too,"  said  Elnora  instantly.  "We  had  bet- 
ter take  these  back  and  get  a  cheaper  pair." 

"Oh,  let  them  go  for  this  time,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"They  are  so  pretty,  I  hate  to  part  with  them.  You  can 
get  cheaper  ones  after  this." 

Wesley  and  Margaret  scarcely  breathed  for  a  long  time. 

Then  Wesley  went  to  do  the  feeding.  Elnora  set  the 
table.  When  the  water  was  hot,  Margaret  pinned  a  big 
towel  around  Elnora's  shoulders  and  washed  and  dried 
the  lovely  hair  according  to  the  instructions  she  had  been 
given  the  previous  night.  As  the  hair  began  to  dry  it  bil- 
lowed out  in  a  sparkling  sheen  that  caught  the  light  and 
gleamed  and  flashed. 

"Now,  the  idea  is  to  let  it  stand  naturally,  just  as  the 
curl  will  make  it.     Don't  you  do  any  of  that  nasty,  untidy 


68  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

snarling,  Elnora,"  cautioned  Margaret.  "Wash  it  this 
way  every  two  weeks  while  you  are  in  school,  shake  it  out, 
and  dry  it.  Then  part  it  in  the  middle  and  turn  a  front 
quarter  on  each  side  from  your  face.  You  tie  the  back  at 
your  neck  with  a  string  —  so,  and  the  ribbon  goes  in  a  big, 
loose  bow.  I'll  show  you."  One  after  another  Margaret 
Sinton  tied  the  ribbons,  creasing  each  of  them  so  they  could 
not  be  returned,  as  she  explained  that  she  was  trying  to 
see  which  was  most  becoming.  Then  she  produced  the 
raincoat  which  carried  Elnora  into  transports. 

Mrs.  Comstock  objected.  "That  won't  be  warm 
enough  for  cold  weather,  and  you  can't  afford  it  and  a 
coat,  too." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  thought,"  said  Elnora.  "I  was 
planning  on  the  way  home.  These  coats  are  fine  because 
they  keep  you  dry.  I  thought  I  would  get  one,  and  a 
warm  sweater  to  wear  under  it  cold  days.  Then  you  al- 
ways would  be  dry,  and  warm,  too.  The  sweater  only 
costs  three  dollars,  so  I  could  get  it  and  the  raincoat  both 
for  half  the  price  of  a  heavy  cloth  coat." 

"You  are  right  about  that,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"You  can  change  more  with  the  weather,  too.  Keep  the 
raincoat,  Elnora." 

"Wear  it  until  you  try  the  hat,"  said  Margaret.  "It 
will  have  to  do  until  the  dress  is  finished." 

Elnora  picked  up  the  hat  dubiously.  "Mother,  may  I 
wear  my  hair  as  it  is  now?"  she  asked. 

"Let  me  take  a  good  look,"  said  Katharine  Comstock. 

Heaven  only  knows  what  she  saw.     To  Wesley  and  to 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        69 

Margaret  the  bright  young  face  of  Elnora,  with  its  pink 
tints,  its  heavy  dark  brows,  its  bright  blue-gray  eyes, 
and  its  frame  of  curling  reddish  brown  hair  was  the 
sweetest  sight  on  earth,  and  at  that  instant  Elnora  was 
radiant. 

"So  long  as  it's  your  own  hair,  and  combed  back  as 
plain  as  it  will  go,  I  don't  suppose  it  cuts  much  ice  whether 
it's  tied  a  little  tighter  or  looser,"  conceded  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"If  you  stop  right  there,  you  may  let  it  go  at  that." 

Elnora  set  the  hat  on  her  head.  It  was  just  a  wide  tan 
straw  with  three  exquisite  peacock  quills  at  one  side. 
Margaret  Sinton  cried  out,  Wesley  slapped  his  knee  and 
sighed  like  a  blast,  and  Mrs.  Comstock  stood  speechless  for 
a  second. 

"I  wish  you  had  asked  the  price  before  you  put  that 
on,"  she  said  impatiently.     "We  never  can  afford  it." 

"It's  not  so  much  as  you  think,"  said  Margaret. 
"Don't  you  see  what  I  did?  I  had  them  take  off  the 
quills,  and  I  put  on  some  of  those  Phoebe  Simms  gave  me 
from  her  peacocks.  The  hat  will  only  cost  you  a  dollar 
and  a  half." 

She  avoided  Wesley's  eyes,  and  looked  straight  at  Mrs. 
Comstock.     Elnora  removed  the  hat  to  examine  it. 

"Why,  they  are  those  reddish  tan  quills  of  yours!"  she 
cried.  "Mother,  look  how  beautifully  they  are  set  on! 
I  think  they  are  fine.  I'd  much  rather  have  them  than 
those  from  the  store." 

"So  would  I,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "If  Margaret 
wants  to  spare  them,  that  will  make  you  a  beautiful  hat; 


yo  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

dirt  cheap,  too!  You  must  go  past  Mrs.  Simms  and  show 
her.     She  would  be  pleased  to  see  them.,, 

Elnora  sank  into  a  chair  because  she  couldn't  stand  any 
longer  and  contemplated  her  toe.  "Landy,  ain't  I  a 
queen?"  she  murmured.     "What  else  have  I  got?" 

"Just  a  belt,  some  handkerchiefs,  and  a  pair  of  top 
shoes  for  rainy  days  and  colder  weather,"  said  Margaret, 
handing  over  parcels. 

"About  those  high  shoes,  that  was  my  idea,"  said  Wes- 
ley. "Soon  as  it  rains,  low  shoes  won't  do,  and  by  taking 
two  pairs  at  once  I  could  get  them  some  cheaper.  The  low 
ones  are  two  and  the  high  ones  two  fifty,  together  three 
seventy-five.     Ain't  that  cheap?" 

"That's  a  real  bargain,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock,  "if  they 
are  good  shoes,  and  they  look  it." 

"This,"  said  Wesley,  producing  the  last  package,  "is 
your  Christmas  present  from  your  Aunt  Maggie.  I  got 
mine,  too,  but  it's  at  the  house.  I'll  bring  it  up  in  the 
morning." 

He  handed  Margaret  the  umbrella,  and  she  passed  it 
over  to  Elnora,  who  opened  it  and  sat  laughing  under  its 
shelter.  Then  she  kissed  both  of  them.  She  got  a  pencil 
and  a  slip  of  paper  and  set  down  the  prices  they  gave  her 
of  everything  they  had  brought  except  the  umbrella, 
added  the  sum,  and  said  laughingly,  "Will  you  please  wait 
till  to-morrow  for  the  money?     I  will  have  it  then,  sure." 

"Elnora,"  said  Wesley  Sinton.     "Wouldn't  you " 

"Elnora,  hustle  here  a  minute!"  called  Mrs.  Comstock 
from  the  kitchen.     "I  need  you!" 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        71 

"One  second,  mother,"  answered  Elnora,  throwing  off 
the  coat  and  hat,  and  closing  the  umbrella  as  she  ran. 
There  were  several  errands  to  do  in  a  hurry,  and  then  sup- 
per. Elnora  chattered  incessantly,  Wesley  and  Margaret 
talked  all  they  could,  while  Mrs.  Comstock  said  a  word 
now  and  then,  which  was  all  she  ever  did.  But  Wesley 
Sinton  was  watching  her,  and  time  and  again  he  saw  a  pe- 
culiar little  twist  around  her  mouth.  He  knew  that  for 
the  first  time  in  sixteen  years  she  really  was  laughing  over 
something.  She  had  all  she  could  do  to  preserve  her 
usually  sober  face.     Wesley  knew  what  she  was  thinking. 

After  supper  the  dress  was  finished,  the  plans  for  the 
next  one  discussed,  and  then  the  Sintons  went  home. 
Elnora  gathered  her  treasures. 

As  she  started  for  the  stairs  she  stopped.  "May  I  kiss 
you  good-night,  mother?"  she  asked  lightly. 

"Never  mind  any  slobbering,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"I  should  think  you'd  lived  with  me  long  enough  to  know 
that  I  don't  care  for  it." 

"Well,  I'd  love  to  show  you  in  some  way  how  happy  I 
am,  and  how  I  thank  you." 

"I  wonder  what  for?"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Mag 
Sinton  picked  that  stuff  and  brought  it  here  and  you  pay 
for  it." 

"Yes,  but  you  seemed  willing  for  me  to  have  it,  and  you 
said  you  would  help  me  if  I  couldn't  pay  all,"  insisted 
Elnora. 

"Maybe  I  did,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Maybe  I  did. 
I  meant  to  get  you  some  heavy  dress  skirts  about  Thanks- 


72  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

giving,  and  I  still  can  get  them.  Go  to  bed,  and  for  any 
sake  don't  begin  mooning  before  a  mirror,  and  make  a 
dunce  of  yourself." 

Mrs.  Comstock  picked  up  several  papers  and  blew  out 
the  kitchen  light.  She  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  sitting- 
room  floor  for  a  time  and  then  went  into  her  room  and 
closed  the  door.  Sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  she 
thought  for  a  few  minutes  and  then  suddenly  buried  her 
face  in  the  pillow  and  again  heaved  with  laughter. 

Down  the  road  plodded  Margaret  and  Wesley  Sinton. 
Neither  of  them  had  words  to  utter  their  united  thought. 

"Done!"  hissed  Wesley  at  last.  "Done  brown!  Did 
you  ever  feel  like  a  bloomin',  confounded  donkey?  How 
did  the  woman  do  it?" 

"She  didn't  do  it!"  gulped  Margaret  through  her  tears. 
"She  didn't  do  anything.  She  just  trusted  to  Elnora's 
great  big  soul  to  bring  her  out  right,  and  really  she  was 
right,  and  so  it  had  to  bring  her.  She's  a  darling,  Wesley! 
But  she's  got  a  time  before  her.  Did  you  see  Kate  Com- 
stock grab  that  money?  Before  six  months  she'll  be  out 
combing  the  Limberlost  for  bugs  and  arrow  points  to  help 
pay  the  tax.     I  know  her." 

"Well,  I  don't!"  exclaimed  Sinton.  "She's  too  many  for 
me.  But  there  is  a  laugh  left  in  her  yet!  I  didn't  s'pose 
there  was.  Bet  you  a  dollar,  if  we  could  see  her  this  min- 
ute, she'd  be  chuckling  over  the  way  we  got  left." 

Both  of  them  stopped  in  the  road  and  looked  back. 

"There's  Elnora's  light  in  her  room,"  said  Margaret. 
"The  poor  child  will  feel  those  clothes,  and  pore  over  her 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        73 

books  till  morning,  but  she'll  look  decent  to  go  to  school, 
anyway.     Nothing  is  too  big  a  price  to  pay  for  that." 

"Yes,  if  Kate  lets  her  wear  them.  Ten  to  one,  she 
makes  her  finish  the  week  with  that  old  stuff!" 

"No,  she  won't,"  said  Margaret.  "She  don't  dare. 
Kate  made  some  concessions,  all  right;  big  ones  for  her  — 
if  she  did  get  her  way  in  the  main.  She  bent  some,  and  if 
Elnora  proves  that  she  can  walk  out  barehanded  in  the 
morning  and  come  back  with  that  much  money  in  her 
pocket,  an  armful  of  books,  and  buy  a  turnout  like  that, 
she  proves  that  she  is  of  some  consideration,  and  Kate's 
smart  enough.  She'll  think  twice  before  she'll  do  that. 
Elnora  won't  wear  a  calico  dress  to  high  school  again. 
You  watch  and  see  if  she  does.  She  may  have  got  the 
best  clothes  she'll  get  for  a  time,  for  the  least  money,  but 
she  won't  know  it  until  she  tries  to  buy  goods  herself 
at  the  same  rates.  Wesley,  what  about  those  prices? 
Didn't  they  shrink  considerable?" 

"You  began  it,"  said  Wesley.  "Those  prices  were  all 
right.  We  didn't  say  what  the  goods  cost  us,  we  said 
what  they  would  cost  her.  Surely  she's  mistaken  about 
being  able  to  pay  all  that.  Can  she  pick  up  stuff  of  that 
value  around  the  Limberlost?  Didn't  the  Bird  Woman 
see  her  trouble,  and  just  give  her  the  money?" 

"I  don't  think  so,"  said  Margaret.  "Seems  to  me  I've 
heard  of  her  paying,  or  offering  to  pay  them  that  would 
take  the  money,  for  bugs  and  butterflies,  and  I've  known 
people  who  sold  that  banker  Indian  stuff.  Once  I  heard 
that  his  pipe  collection  beat  that  of  the  Government  at  the 


74  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Philadelphia   Centennial.     Those   things   have   come   to 
have  a  value." 

"Well,  there's  about  a  bushel  of  that  kind  of  valuables 
piled  up  in  the  woodshed,  that  belongs  to  Elnora.  At 
least,  I  picked  them  up  because  she  said  she  wanted  them. 
Ain't  it  queer  that  she'd  take  to  stones,  bugs,  and  butter- 
flies, and  save  them.  Now  they  are  going  to  bring  her 
the  very  thing  she  wants  the  worst.  Lord,  but  this  is  a 
funny  world  when  you  get  to  studying!  Looks  like  things 
didn't  all  come  by  accident.  Looks  as  if  there  was  a  plan 
back  of  it,  and  somebody  driving  that  knows  the  road,  and 
how  to  handle  the  lines.  Anyhow,  Elnora's  in  the  wagon, 
and  when  I  get  out  in  the  night  and  the  dark  closes  around 
me,  and  I  see  the  stars,  I  don't  feel  so  cheap.  Maggie, 
how  the  nation  did  Kate  Comstock  do  that?" 

"You  will  keep  on  harping,  Wesley.  I  told  you  she 
didn't  do  it.  Elnora  did  it!  She  walked  in  and  took 
things  right  out  of  our  hands.  All  Kate  had  to  do  was  to 
enjoy  having  it  go  her  way,  and  she  was  cute  enough  to 
put  in  a  few  questions  that  sort  of  guided  Elnora.  But 
I  don't  know,  Wesley.  This  thing  makes  me  think,  too. 
S'pose  we'd  got  Elnora  when  she  was  a  baby,  and  we'd 
heaped  on  her  all  the  love  we  can't  on  our  own,  and  we'd 
coddled,  petted,  and  shielded  her,  would  she  have  made 
the  woman  that  living  alone,  learning  to  think  for  herself, 
and  taking  all  the  knocks  Kate  Comstock  could  give, 
have  made  of  her?" 

"You  bet  your  life!"  cried  Wesley,  warmly.  *  "Loving 
anybody  don't  hurt  them.    We  wouldn't  have  done  any- 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        75 

thing  but  love  her.  You  can't  hurt  a  child  loving  it. 
She'd  have  learned  to  work,  be  sensible,  study,  and  grown 
into  a  woman  with  us,  without  suffering  like  a  poor  home- 
less dog." 

"But  you  don't  get  the  point,  Wesley.  She  would 
have  grown  into  a  fine  woman  with  us;  just  seems  as  if 
Elnora  was  born  to  be  fine,  but  as  we  would  have  raised 
her,  would  her  heart  ever  have  known  the  world  as  it  does 
now?  Where's  the  anguish,  Wesley,  that  child  can't 
comprehend  ?  Seeing  what  she's  seen  of  her  mother  hasn't 
hardened  her.  She  can  understand  any  mother's  sorrow. 
Living  life  from  the  rough  side  has  only  broadened  her. 
Where's  the  girl  or  boy  burning  with  shame,  or  struggling 
to  find  a  way,  that  will  cross  Elnora's  path  and  not  get  a 
lift  from  her?  She's  had  the  knocks,  but  there'll  never  be 
any  of  the  thing  you  call  'false  pride'  in  her.  I  guess  we 
better  keep  out.  Maybe  Kate  Comstock  knows  what 
she's  doing.  Sure  as  you  live,  Elnora  has  grown  bigger 
on  knocks  than  she  would  on  love." 

"  I  don't  s'pose  there  ever  was  a  very  fine  point  to  any- 
thing but  I  missed  it,"  said  Wesley,  "because  I  am  blunt, 
rough,  and  have  no  book  learning  to  speak  of.  Since  you 
put  it  into  words  I  see  what  you  mean,  but  it's  dinged  hard 
on  Elnora,  just  the  same.  And  I  don't  keep  out.  I  keep 
watching  closer  than  ever.  I  got  my  slap  in  the  face,  but 
if  I  don't  miss  my  guess,  Kate  Comstock  learned  her  lesson, 
same  as  I  did.  She  learned  that  I  was  in  earnest,  that  I 
would  haul  her  to  court  if  she  didn't  loosen  up  a  bit,  and 
she'll  loosen.     You  see  if  she  don't.     It  may  come  hard, 


76  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

and  the  hinges  creak,  but  she'll  fix  Elnora  decent  after 
this,  if  Elnora  don't  prove  that  she  can  fix  herself.  As 
for  me,  I  found  out  that  what  I  was  doing  was  as  much  for 
myself  as  for  Elnora.  I  wanted  her  to  take  those  things 
from  us,  and  love  us  for  giving  them.  It  didn't  work,  and 
but  for  you,  I'd  messed  the  whole  thing  and  stuck  like  a 
pig  crossing  a  bridge.  But  you  helped  me  out;  Elnora's 
got  the  clothes,  and  by  morning  maybe  I  won't  grudge 
Kate  the  only  laugh  she's  had  in  sixteen  years.  You  been 
showing  me  the  way  quite  a  spell  now,  ain't  you,  Maggie?" 

Then  they  went  out  of  the  night,  and  lay  down  together 
with  Margaret's  hand  just  touching  Wesley's  sleeve. 

Up  in  the  attic  Elnora  lighted  two  candles,  set  them 
on  her  little  table,  stacked  the  books,  and  put  away  the 
precious  clothes.  How  lovingly  she  hung  the  hat  and 
umbrella,  folded  the  raincoat,  and  spread  the  new  dress 
over  a  chair.  She  fingered  the  ribbons,  and  tried  to 
smooth  the  creases  from  them.  She  put  away  the  hose 
neatly  folded,  touched  the  handkerchiefs,  and  tried  the 
belt.  Then  she  slipped  into  her  little  white  nightdress, 
shook  down  her  hair  that  it  might  become  thoroughly  dry, 
set  a  chair  before  the  table,  and  reverently  opened  one  of 
the  books.  A  stiff  draught  swept  the  attic,  for  it  stretched 
the  length  of  the  cabin,  and  had  a  window  in  each  end. 
Elnora  arose  and  going  to  the  east  window  closed  it.  She 
stood  for  a  minute  looking  at  the  stars,  the  sky,  and  the 
dark  outline  of  the  straggling  trees  of  the  rapidly  dis- 
mantling Limberlost.  In  the  region  of  her  case  a  tiny 
point  of  light  flashed  and  disappeared.     Elnora  straight- 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        y7 

ened  and  wondered.  Was  it  wise  to  leave  her  precious 
money  there?  The  light  flashed  once  more,  wavered  a 
few  seconds,  and  died  out.  The  girl  waited.  She  did 
not  see  it  again,  and  so  she  went  back  to  her  books. 

In  the  Limberlost  the  hulking  figure  of  a  man  slouched 
down  the  trail. 

"The  Bird  Woman  was  at  Freckles's  room  this  evening," 
he  muttered.     "Wonder  what  for?" 

He  left  the  trail,  entered  the  enclosure  still  distinctly 
outlined  and  approached  the  case.  The  first  point  of 
light  flashed  from  the  tiny  electric  lamp  on  his  vest.  He 
took  a  duplicate  key  from  his  pocket,  felt  for  the  padlock 
and  opened  it.  The  door  swung  wide.  The  light  flashed 
the  second  time.     Swiftly  his  glance  swept  the  interior. 

'"Bout  a  fourth  of  her  moths  gone.  Elnora  must  have 
been  with  the  Bird  Woman  and  given  them  to  her." 
Then  he  stood  tense.  His  keen  eyes  discovered  the  roll 
of  bills  hastily  thrust  back  in  the  bottom  of  the  case.  He 
snatched  them  up,  shut  off  the  light,  relocked  the  case  by 
touch,  and  swiftly  went  down  the  trail.  Every  few  sec- 
onds he  paused  and  listened  intently.  Just  as  he  reached 
the  road,  the  low  hoot  of  a  screech  owl,  waveringly  pro- 
longed, fell  on  his  ears,  and  he  stopped.  An  instant  later 
a  second  figure  approached  him. 

"Is  it  you,  Pete?"  came  the  whispered  question. 

"Yes,"  said  the  first  man. 

"I  was  coming  down  to  take  a  peep,  when  I  saw  your 
flash,"  he  said.  "I  heard  the  Bird  Woman  had  been  at 
the  case  to-day.     Anything  doing?" 


78  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Not  a  thing,"  said  Pete.     "She  just  took  away  about  a' 
fourth  of  the  moths.     Probably  had  the  Comstock  girl 
getting  them  for  her.     Heard  they  were  together.     Likely 
she'll  get  the  rest  to-morrow.     Ain't  picking  gettin'  bare 
these  days?" 

"Well,  I  should  say  so,"  said  the  second  man,  turning 
back  in  disgust.     "Coming  home,  now?" 

"No,  I  am  going  down  this  way,"  answered  Pete,  for 
his  eyes  caught  the  gleam  from  the  window  of  the  Com- 
stock cabin,  and  he  had  a  desire  to  learn  why  Elnora's 
attic  was  lighted  at  that  hour. 

He  slouched  down  the  road,  occasionally  feeling  the  size 
of  the  roll  he  had  not  taken  time  to  count.  He  chuckled 
frequently. 

"Feels  fat  enough  to  pay,"  he  whispered.  "Bill,  I 
beat  you  just  about  seven  minutes." 

The  attic  was  too  long,  the  light  too  near  the  other  end, 
and  the  cabin  stood  much  too  far  back  from  the  road.  He 
could  see  nothing,  although  he  climbed  the  fence  and 
walked  back  opposite  the  window.  He  knew  Mrs.  Com- 
stock was  probably  awake,  and  that  she  sometimes  went 
to  the  swamp  behind  her  home  at  night.  At  times  a  cry 
went  up  from  that  locality  that  paralyzed  any  one  near, 
or  sent  them  fleeing  as  if  for  life.  He  did  not  care  to  cross 
behind  the  cabin.  He  returned  to  the  road,  passed,  and 
again  climbed  the  fence.  Opposite  the  west  window  he 
could  see  Elnora.  She  sat  before  a  small  table  reading 
from  a  book  between  two  candles.  Her  hair  fell  in  a 
bright  sheen  around  her,  and  with  one  hand  she  lightly 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED  .      79 

shook,  and  tossed  it  as  she  studied.  The  man  stood  out 
in  the  night  and  watched. 

For  a  long  time  a  leaf  turned  occasionally  and  the  hair- 
drying  went  on.  The  man  drew  nearer.  The  picture 
grew  more  beautiful  as  he  approached.  He  could  not 
see  as  well  as  he  desired,  for  the  screen  was  of  white  mos- 
quito netting,  and  it  angered  him.  He  cautiously  crept 
closer.  The  elevation  shut  off  his  view.  Then  he  re- 
membered the  great  willow  tree  shading  the  well  and 
branching  across  the  window  at  the  west  end  of  the  cabin. 
From  childhood  Elnora  had  stepped  from  the  sill  to  a 
limb  and  slid  down  the  slanting  trunk  of  the  tree.  He 
reached  it  and  noiselessly  swung  himself  up.  Three 
steps  out  on  the  big  limb  the  man  shuddered.  He  was 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  girl. 

He  could  see  the  throb  of  her  breast  under  its  thin  cover- 
ing and  smell  the  fragrance  of  the  tossing  hair.  He  could 
see  the  narrow  bed  with  its  pieced  calico  cover,  the  white- 
washed walls  with  gay  lithographs,  and  every  crevice 
stuck  full  of  twigs  with  dangling  cocoons.  There  were  pegs 
for  the  few  clothes,  the  old  chest,  the  little  table,  the  two 
chairs,  the  uneven  floor  covered  with  rag  rugs,  and  braided 
corn  husk.  But  nothing  was  worth  a  glance  save  the 
perfect  face  and  form  within  reach  by  one  spring  through 
the  rotten  mosquito  bar.  He  gripped  the  limb  above  that 
on  which  he  stood,  licked  his  lips,  and  breathed  through 
his  throat  to  be  sure  he  was  making  no  sound.  Elnora 
closed  the  book  and  laid  it  aside.  She  picked  up  a  towel, 
and  turning  the  gathered  ends  of  her  hair  rubbed  them 


80  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

across  it,  and  dropping  the  towel  on  her  lap,  tossed  the 
hair  again.  Then  she  sat  in  deep  thought.  By  and  by 
words  began  to  come  softly.  Near  as  he  was  the  man 
could  not  hear  at  first.  He  bent  closer  and  listened  in- 
tently. 

"  —  ever  could  be  so  happy,"  murmured  the  soft  voice. 
"The  dress  is  so  pretty,  such  shoes,  the  coat  and  every- 
thing. I  won't  have  to  be  ashamed  again,  not  ever  again, 
for  the  Limberlost  is  full  of  precious  moths,  and  I  always 
can  collect  them.  The  Bird  Woman  will  buy  more  to- 
morrow, and  the  next  day,  and  the  next.  When  they  are 
all  gone,  I  can  spend  every  minute  gathering  cocoons, 
and  hunting  other  things  I  can  sell.  Oh,  thank  God,  for  my 
precious,  precious  money.  Why,  I  didn't  pray  in  vain 
after  all!  I  thought  when  I  asked  the  Lord  to  hide  me, 
there  in  that  big  hall,  that  He  wasn't  doing  it,  because  I 
wasn't  covered  from  sight  that  instant.  But  I'm  hidden 
now,  I  feel  that."  Elnora  lifted  her  eyes  to  the  beams 
above  her.  "I  don't  know  much  about  praying  prop- 
erly," she  muttered,  "but  I  do  thank  you,  Lord,  for 
hiding  me  in  your  own  time  and  way." 

Her  face  was  so  bright  that  it  shone  with  a  white  radi- 
ance. Two  big  tears  welled  from  her  eyes,  and  rolled 
down  her  smiling  cheeks.  "Oh,  I  do  feel  that  you 
have  hidden  me,"  she  breathed.  Then  she  blew  out 
the  lights,  and  the  little  wooden  bed  creaked  under  her 
weight. 

Pete  Corson  dropped  from  the  limb  and  found  his 
way  to  the  road.     He  stood  still  a  long  time,  then  started 


THE  SINTONS  ARE  DISAPPOINTED        81 

back  to  the  Limberlost.  A  tiny  point  of  light  flashed  in 
the  region  of  the  case.     He  stopped  with  an  oath. 

"Another  hound  trying  to  steal  from  a  girl,"  he  ex- 
claimed. "But  it's  likely  he  thinks  if  he  gets  anything 
it  will  be  from  a  woman  who  can  afford  it,  as  I  did." 

He  went  on,  but  beside  the  fences,  and  very  cautiously. 

"Swamp  seems  to  be  alive  to-night,"  he  muttered. 
"That's  three  of  us  out." 

He  entered  a  deep  place  at  the  northwest  corner,  sat 
on  the  ground  and,  taking  a  pencil  from  his  pocket,  he 
tore  a  leaf  from  a  little  notebook,  and  laboriously  wrote  a 
few  lines  by  the  light  he  carried.  Then  he  went  back  to 
the  region  of  the  case  and  waited.  Before  his  eyes  swept 
the  vision  of  the  slender  white  creature  with  tossing  hair. 
He  smiled,  and  worshipped  it,  until  a  distant  rooster 
faintly  announced  dawn. 

Then  he  unlocked  the  case  again,  and  replaced  the 
money,  laid  the  note  upon  it,  and  went  back  to  conceal- 
ment, where  he  remained  until  Elnora  came  down  the 
trail  in  the  morning,  looking  very  lovely  in  her  new  dress 
and  hat. 


CHAPTER  V 

Wherein  Elnora  Receives  a  Warning,  and  BiLin 
Appears  on  the  Scene 

It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  just  how  happy 
Elnora  was  that  morning  as  she  hurried  through  her  work, 
bathed  and  put  on  the  neat,  dainty  gingham  dress,  and 
the  tan  shoes.  She  had  a  struggle  with  her  hair.  It 
crinkled,  billowed,  and  shone,  and  she  could  not  avoid 
seeing  the  becoming  frame  it  made  around  her  face.  But 
in  deference  to  her  mother's  feelings  the  girl  set  her  teeth, 
and  bound  her  hair  close  to  her  head  with  a  shoestring. 
"Not  to  be  changed  at  the  case,"  she  told  herself. 

That  her  mother  was  watching  she  was  unaware. 
Just  as  she  picked  up  the  beautiful  brown  ribbon  Mrs. 
Comstock  spoke. 

"You  had  better  let  me  tie  that.  You  can't  reach 
behind  yourself  and  do  it  right." 

Elnora  gave  a  little  gasp.  Her  mother  never  before 
had  proposed  to  do  anything  for  the  girl  that  by  any 
possibility  she  could  do  herself.  Her  heart  quaked  at 
the  thought  of  how  her  mother  would  arrange  that  bow, 
but  Elnora  dared  not  refuse.  The  offer  was  too  precious. 
It  might  never  be  made  again. 

82 


ELNORA  RECEIVES  A  WARNING  83 

"Oh,  thank  you!"  said  the  girl,  and  sitting  down  she 
held  out  the  ribbon. 

Her  mother  stood  back  and  looked  at  her  critically. 

"You  haven't  got  that  like  Mag  Sinton  had  it  last 
night,"  she  announced.  "You  little  idiot!  You've 
tried  to  plaster  it  down  to  suit  me,  and  you  missed  it.  I 
liked  it  away  better  as  Mag  fixed  it,  after  I  saw  it.  You 
didn't  look  so  peeled." 

"Oh,  mother,  mother!"  laughed  Elnora,  with  a  half 
sob  in  her  voice. 

"Hold  still,  will  you?"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "You'll 
be  late,  and  I  haven't  packed  your  dinner  yet. " 

She  untied  the  string  and  shook  out  the  hair.  It  rose 
with  electricity  and  clung  to  her  fingers  and  hands.  Mrs. 
Comstock  jumped  back  as  if  bitten.  She  knew  that 
touch.     Her  face  grew  white,  and  her  eyes  angry. 

"Tie  it  yourself,"  she  said  shortly,  "and  then  I'll  put 
on  the  ribbon.  But  roll  it  back  loose  like  Mag  did.  It 
looked  so  pretty  that  way." 

Almost  fainting,  Elnora  stood  before  the  glass,  divided 
off  the  front  parts  of  her  hair,  and  rolled  them  as  Mrs. 
Sinton  had  done;  tied  it  at  the  nape  of  her  neck,  then  sat 
while  her  mother  arranged  the  ribbon. 

"If  I  pull  it  down  till  it  comes  tight  in  these  creases 
where  she  had  it,  it  will  be  just  right  won't  it?"  queried 
Mrs.  Comstock,  and  the  amazed  Elnora  stammered 
"Yes." 

When  she  looked  in  the  glass  the  bow  was  perfectly 
tied,  and  how  the  gold  tone  of  the  brown  did  match  the 


84  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

lustre  of  the  shining  hair!  "That's  awful  pretty,"  com- 
mented Mrs.  Comstock's  soul,  but  her  stiff  lips  had  said 
all  that  could  be  forced  from  them  for  once.  Just  then 
Wesley  Sinton  came  to  the  door. 

"Good  morning,"  he  cried  heartily.  "Elnora,  you 
look  a  picture!  My,  but  you're  sweet!  If  any  of  them 
city  boys  get  sassy  you  tell  your  Uncle  Wesley,  and  he'll 
horsewhip  them.  Here's  your  Christmas  present  from 
me. "  He  handed  Elnora  the  leather  lunch  box,  with  her 
name  carved  across  the  strap  in  artistic  lettering. 

"Oh,  Uncle  Wesley!"  and  that  was  all  Elnora  could 
say. 

"Your  Aunt  Maggie  filled  it  for  me  for  a  starter,"  he 
said.  "Now,  if  you  are  ready,  I'm  going  to  drive  past 
your  way  and  you  can  ride  almost  to  Onabasha  with  me, 
and  save  the  new  shoes  that  much." 

Elnora  was  staring  at  the  box.  "Oh,  I  hope  it  isn't 
impolite  to  open  it  before  you,"  she  said.  "I  just  feel 
as  if  I  must  see  inside." 

"Don't  you  stand  on  no  formality  with  the  neighbors," 
laughed  Sinton.     "Look  at  your  box  if  you  want  to!" 

Elnora  slipped  the  strap  and  turned  back  the  lid. 

This  disclosed  the  knife,  fork,  napkin,  and  spoon,  the 
milk  flask,  and  the  interior  packed  with  dainty  sand- 
wiches wrapped  in  tissue  paper,  and  the  little  compart- 
ments for  meat,  salad,  and  the  custard  cup. 

"Oh,  mother!"  cried  Elnora.  "Oh,  mother,  isn't  it 
fine?  What  made  you  think  of  it,  Uncle  Wesley?  How 
will  I  ever  thank  you?     No  one  will  have  a  finer  lunch 


ELNORA  RECEIVES  A  WARNING  85 

box  than  I.  Oh,  I  do  thank  you!  That's  the  nicest  gift 
I  ever  had.     How  I  love  Christmas  in  September!" 

"It's  a  mighty  handy  thing,"  assented  Mrs.  Comstock, 
taking  in  every  detail  with  sharp  eyes.  "I  guess  you  are 
glad  now  you  went  and  helped  Mag  and  Wesley  when 
you  could,  Elnora?" 

"Deedy,  yes,"  laughed  Elnora,  "and  I'm  going  again 
first  time  they  have  a  big  day  if  I  stay  out  of  school  to 
doit." 

"You'll  do  no  such  thing!"  said  the  delighted  Sinton. 
"Come  now,  if  you're  going!" 

"  If  I  ride,  can  you  spare  me  time  to  run  into  the  swamp 
to  my  box  just  a  minute?"  asked  Elnora. 

The  light  she  had  seen  the  previous  night  troubled 
her. 

"Sure,"  said  Wesley  largely.  He  was  having  such  a 
good  time  nothing  could  hurry  him.  So  they  drove  away 
and  left  a  white-faced  woman  watching  them  from  the 
door,  her  heart  just  a  little  sorer  than  usual. 

"I'd  give  a  pretty  to  hear  what  he'll  say  to  her!"  she 
said  bitterly.  "Always  sticking  in,  always  doing  things 
I  can't  ever  afford.  Where  on  earth  did  he  get  that  thing 
and  what  did  it  cost?" 

Then  she  entered  the  cabin  and  began  the  day's  work, 
but  mingled  with  the  brooding  bitterness  of  her  soul  was 
the  vision  of  a  sweet  young  face,  glad  with  a  gladness 
never  before  seen  on  it,  and  over  and  over  she  repeated, 
"I  wonder  what  he'll  say  to  her!" 

What  he  said  was  that  she  looked  as  fresh  and  sweet 


86  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

as  a  posy,  and  to  be  careful  not  to  step  in  the  mud  or 
scratch  her  shoe  when  she  went  to  the  case. 

Elnora  found  her  key  and  opened  the  door.  Not  where 
she  had  placed  it,  but  conspicuously  in  front  lay  her  little 
heap  of  bills,  and  a  crude  scrawl  of  writing  beside  it. 
Elnora  picked  up  the  note  in  astonishment. 

dere  Elnory, 

the  lord  amighty  is  hiding  you  all  right  done  you  ever  dout  it  this 
money  of  yourn  was  took  for  some  time  las  nite  but  it  is  returned  with 
intres  for  god  sake  done  every  come  to  the  swamp  at  nite  or  late  evnin 
or  mornin  or  far  in  any  time    sompin  worse  an  you  know  could  git  you 

A   FREND. 

Elnora  began  to  tremble.  She  hastily  glanced  about. 
The  damp  earth  before  the  case  had  been  trodden  by 
large,  roughly  shod  feet.  She  caught  up  the  money  and 
the  note,  thrust  them  into  her  guimpe,  locked  the  case, 
and  ran  for  the  road. 

She  was  so  breathless  and  her  face  so  white  Sinton 
noticed  it. 

"What  in  the  world's  the  matter,  Elnora?"  he  asked 
as  he  helped  her  into  the  carriage. 

"I  am  half  afraid!"  she  panted. 

"Tut,  tut,  child!"  said  Wesley  Sinton.  "Nothing  in 
the  world  to  be  afraid  of.     What  happeneed?" 

"Uncle  Wesley,"  said  Elnora,  "I  had  more  money 
than  I  brought  home  last  night,  and  I  put  it  in  my  case. 
Some  one  has  been  there.  The  ground  is  all  trampled, 
and  they  left  this  note. " 

"And  took  your  money,  I'll  wager, "  said  Sinton  angrily. 


ELNORA  RECEIVES  A  WARNING  87 

"No,"  answered  Elnora.  "Read  the  note  and,  oh, 
Uncle  Wesley,  tell  me  what  it  means!" 

Sinton's  face  was  a  study.  "I  don't  know  what  it 
means,"  he  said.  "Only  one  thing  is  clear.  It  means 
some  beast  who  doesn't  really  want  to  harm  you  has  got 
his  eye  on  you,  and  he  is  telling  you,  plain  as  he  can,  not 
to  give  him  a  chance.  You  got  to  keep  along  the  roads, 
in  the  open,  and  not  let  the  biggest  moth  that  ever  flew 
toll  you  out  of  hearing  of  us,  or  your  mother.  It  means 
that,  plain  and  distinct. " 

"Just  when  I  can  sell  them!  Just  when  everything  is 
so  lovely  on  account  of  them!  I  can't!  I  can't  stay 
away  from  the  swamp.  The  Limberlost  is  going  to  buy 
the  books,  the  clothes,  pay  the  tuition,  and  even  start  a 
college  fund.     I  just  can't!" 

"You've  got  to,"  said  Sinton.  "This  is  plain  enough. 
You  go  far  in  the  swamp  at  your  own  risk,  even  in  day- 
time. " 

"Uncle  Wesley,"  said  the  girl  in  a  whisper,  "last  night 
before  I  went  to  bed  I  was  so  happy  I  tried  to  pray,  and 
I  thanked  God  for  hiding  me  'under  the  shadow  of  His 
wing.'     But  how  in  the  world  could  any  one  know  it?" 

Wesley  Sinton's  heart  gave  one  great  leap  in  his  breast. 
His  face  was  whiter  than  the  girl's  now. 

"Was  you  praying  out  loud,  honey?"  he  almost 
whispered. 

"I  might  have  said  words,"  answered  Elnora.  "I 
know  I  do  sometimes.  I've  never  had  any  one  to  talk 
to,  and  I've  played  with  and  talked  to  myself  all  my  life. 


88  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

You've  caught  me  at  it  often,  but  it  always  makes  mother 
angry  when  she  does.  She  says  it's  silly.  I  forget  and 
do  it,  when  I'm  alone.  But,  Uncle  Wesley,  if  I  said  any- 
thing last  night,  you  know  it  was  the  merest  whisper, 
because  I'd  have  been  so  afraid  of  waking  mother.  Don't 
you  see?     I  sat  up  late,  and  did  two  lessons." 

Sintoh  was  steadying  himself.  "I'll  stop  and  examine 
the  case  as  I  come  back,"  he  said.  "Maybe  I  can  find 
some  clue.  That  other  —  that  was  just  accidental.  It's 
a  common  expression.  All  the  preachers  use  it.  If  I 
was  going  to  pray,  that  would  be  the  very  first  thing  I'd 
say." 

The  colour  came  back  to  Elnora's  face. 

"Did  you  tell  your  mother  about  this  money,  Elnora?" 
he  asked. 

"No,  I  didn't,"  said  Elnora.  "It's  dreadful  not  to, 
but  I  was  afraid.  You  see  they  are  clearing  the  swamp 
so  fast.  Every  year  it  grows  harder  to  find  things,  and 
Indian  stuff  gets  scarcer.  I  want  to  graduate,  and  that's 
four  years  unless  I  can  double  on  the  course.  That  means 
twenty  dollars  tuition  each  year,  and  new  books,  and 
clothes.  There  won't  ever  be  so  much  at  one  time  again, 
that  I  know.  I  just  got  to  hang  to  my  money.  I  was 
afraid  to  tell  her,  for  fear  she  would  want  it  for  taxes, 
and  she  really  must  sell  a  tree  or  some  cattle  for  that, 
musn't  she,  Uncle  Wesley?" 

"On  your  life,  she  must!"  said  Wesley.  "You  put 
your  little  wad  in  the  bank  all  safe,  and  never  mention 
it  to  a  living  soul.     It  don't  seem  right,  but  your  case  is 


ELNORA  RECEIVES  A  WARNING  89 

peculiar.  Every  word  you  say  is  a  true  word.  Each 
year  you  will  get  less  from  the  swamp,  and  things  every- 
where will  be  scarcer.  If  you  ever  get  a  few  dollars 
ahead,  that  can  start  your  college  fund.  You  know  you 
are  going  to  college,  Elnora!" 

"Of  course  I  am,"  said  Elnora.  "I  settled  that  as 
soon  as  I  knew  what  a  college  was.  I  will  put  all  my 
money  in  the  bank,  except  what  I  owe  you.  I'll  pay  that 
now. " 

"If  your  arrows  are  heavy,"  said  Wesley,  "I'll  drive  on 
to  Onabasha  with  you. " 

"But  they  are  not.  Half  of  them  were  nicked,  and 
this  little  box  held  all  the  good  ones.  It's  so  surprising 
how  many  are  spoiled  when  you  wash  them." 

"What  does  he  pay?" 

"Ten  cents  for  any  common  perfect  one,  fifty  for 
revolvers,  a  dollar  for  obsidian,  and  whatever  is  right  for 
enormous  big  ones. " 

"Well,  that  sounds  fair,"  said  Sinton.  "It's  more 
than  I  would  want  to  give  for  the  things.  You  can  come 
down  Saturday  and  wash  up  the  stuff  at  our  house,  and 
I'll  take  it  in  when  we  go  marketing  in  the  afternoon. " 

Elnora  jumped  from  the  carriage.  She  soon  found 
that  with  her  books,  her  lunch  box,  and  the  points  she  had 
a  heavy  load.  She  was  almost  to  the  bridge  crossing  the 
culvert  when  she  heard  the  distressed  screams  of  a  child. 
Across  an  orchard  of  the  suburbs  came  a  small  boy,  after 
him  a  big  dog,  urged  by  a  man  in  the  background.  El- 
nora's  heart  was  with  the  small  flying  figure  in  any  event 


90  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

whatever.  She  dropped  her  load  on  the  bridge,  and  with 
practised  hand  caught  up  a  stone  and  flung  it  at  the  dog. 
The  beast  curled  double  with  a  howl.  The  boy  reached 
the  fence,  and  Elnora  was  there  to  help  him  over.  As  he 
touched  the  top  she  swung  him  to  the  ground,  but  he 
clung  to  her,  clasping  her  tightly,  sobbing  and  shivering 
with  fear.  Elnora  carried  him  to  the  bridge,  and  sat 
with  him  in  her  arms.  For  a  time  his  replies  to  her  ques- 
tions were  indistinct,  but  at  last  he  became  quieter  and 
she  could  understand. 

He  was  a  mite  of  a  boy,  nothing  but  skin-covered  bones, 
his  burned,  freckled  face  in  a  mortar  of  tears  and  dust, 
his  clothing  unspeakably  dirty,  one  great  toe  in  a  festering 
mass  from  a  broken  nail,  and  sores  all  over  the  visible 
portions  of  the  small  body. 

"You  won't  let  the  mean  old  thing  make  his  dog  get 
me!"  he  wailed. 

"Indeed  no,"  said  Elnora,  hugging  him  closely. 

"You  wouldn't  set  a  dog  on  a  boy  for  just  taking  a  few 
old  apples  when  you  fed  'em  to  pigs  with  a  shovel  every 
day,  would  you?" 

"No,  I  would  not,"  said  Elnora  hotly. 

"You'd  give  a  boy  all  the  apples  he  wanted,  if  he 
hadn't  any  breakfast,  and  was  so  hungry  he  was  all 
twisty  inside,  wouldn't  you?" 

"Yes,  I  would,"  said  Elnora. 

"If  you  had  anything  to  eat  you  would  give  me  some- 
thing right  now,  wouldn't  you  ?  " 

"Yes,"    said    Elnora.       "There's  nothing   but  just 


ELNORA  RECEIVES  A  WARNING  91 

stones  in  the  package.  But  my  dinner  is  in  that  case. 
I'll  gladly  divide." 

She  opened  the  box.  The  famished  child  gave  a  little 
cry  and  reached  both  hands.     Elnora  caught  them  back. 

"Did  you  have  any  supper?" 

"No." 

"Any  dinner  yesterday?" 

"An  apple  and  some  grapes  I  stole. 

"Whose  boy  are  you?" 

"Old  Tom  Billings's." 

"Why  don't  your  father  get  you  something  to  eat?" 

"He  does  most  days,  but  he'^  drunk  now." 

"Hush,  you  must  not!"  said  Elnora.  "He's  your 
father!" 

"He's  spent  all  the  money  to  get  drunk,  too,"  said  the 
boy,  "and  Jimmy  and  Belle  are  both  crying  for  break- 
fast. I'd  a  got  out  all  right  with  an  apple  for  myself,  but 
I  tried  to  get  some  for  them,  and  the  dog  got  too  close. 
Say,  you  can  just  throw,  can't  you?" 

"Yes,"  admitted  Elnora.  She  poured  half  the  milk 
into  the  cup.  "Drink  this,"  she  said,  holding  it  to 
him. 

The  boy  gulped  the  milk  and  swore  joyously,  gripping 
the  cup  with  shaking  fingers. 

"Hush!"  cried  Elnora.     "That's  dreadful!" 

"What's  dreadful?" 

"To  say  such  awful  words." 

"Huh!  pa  says  worser  'an  that  every  breath  he  draws." 

Elnora  stared  into  the  quaint  little  face,  and  saw  that 


92  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

the  child  was  older  than  she  had  thought.  He  might 
have  been  forty  by  his  hard,  unchildish  expression. 

"Do  you  want  to  be  like  your  father?" 

"No,  I  want  to  be  like  you.  Couldn't  a  angel  be 
prettier  'an  you.     Can  I  have  more  milk?" 

Elnora  emptied  the  flask.  The  boy  drained  the  cup. 
He  drew  a  breath  of  satisfaction  as  he  gazed  into  her 
face. 

"You  wouldn't  go  off  and  leave  your  little  boy,  would 
you?"  he  asked. 

"Did  some  one  go  away  and  leave  you?"  questioned 
Elnora  in  return. 

"Yes,  my  mother  went  off  and  left  me,  and  left  Jimmy 
and  Belle,  too, "  said  the  boy.  "You  wouldn't  leave  your 
little  boy,  would  you?" 

"No." 

The  boy  looked  eagerly  at  the  box.  Elnora  lifted  a 
sandwich  and  uncovered  the  fried  chicken.  The  boy 
gasped  with  delight. 

"Say,  I  could  eat  the  stuff  in  the  glass,  and  the  other 
box  and  carry  the  bread  and  the  chicken  to  Jimmy  and 
Belle,"  he  offered. 

Elnora  silently  uncovered  the  custard  with  preserved 
cherries  on  top  and  handed  it  and  the  spoon  to  the  child. 
Never  did  food  disappear  faster.  The  salad  went  next, 
and  a  sandwich  and  half  a  chicken  breast  followed. 

"  I  better  leave  the  rest  for  Jimmy  and  Belle, "  he  6aid, 
"they're  'ist  fightin'  hungry." 

Elnora  gave  him  the  remainder  of  the  carefully  pre- 


ELNORA  RECEIVES  A  WARNING  93 

pared  lunch.  The  boy  clutched  it  and  ran  with  a  side- 
wise  hop  like  a  wild  thing. 

Elnora  covered  the  dishes  and  cup,  polished  the  spoon, 
replaced  it,  and  closed  the  beautiful  case.  She  caught 
her  breath  in  a  tremulous  laugh. 

"  If  Aunt  Margaret  knew  that,  she'd  never  forgive  me, " 
she  said.  "It  seems  as  if  secrecy  is  literally  forced  upon 
me,  and  I  hate  it.  What  will  I  do  for  lunch?  I'll  have 
to  go  sell  my  arrows  and  keep  enough  money  for  a  restau- 
rant sandwich." 

So  she  walked  hurriedly  into  town,  sold  her  points  at 
a  good  price,  deposited  her  funds,  and  went  away  with  a 
neat  little  bank  book  and  the  note  from  the  Limberlost 
carefully  folded  inside.  Elnora  passed  down  the  great 
hall  that  morning,  and  no  one  paid  the  slightest  atten- 
tion to  her.  The  truth  was  she  looked  so  like  every 
one  else  that  she  was  perfectly  inconspicuous.  But 
in  the  coat  room  there  were  members  of  her 
class.  Surely  no  one  intended  it,  but  the  whisper  was 
too  loud. 

"Look  at  the  girl  from  the  Limberlost  in  the  clothes 
that  woman  gave  her!" 

Elnora  turned  on  them.  "  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  said 
unsteadily,  "I  couldn't  help  hearing  that!  No  one  gave 
me  these  clothes.     I  paid  for  them  myself." 

Some  one  muttered,  "Pardon  me,"  but  incredulous 
faces  greeted  her. 

Elnora  felt  driven.  "Aunt  Margaret  selected  them, 
and  she  meant  to  give  them  to  me,"  she  explained,  "but  I 


94  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

wouldn't  take  them.  I  paid  for  them  myself."  There 
was  a  dead  silence. 

"Don't  you  believe  me?"  panted  Elnora. 

"Really,  it  is  none  of  our  affair,"  said  another  girl. 
"Come  on,  let's  go." 

Elnora  stepped  before  the  girl  who  had  spoken.  "You 
have  made  this  your  affair,"  she  said,  "because  you  told 
a  thing  which  was  not  true.  No  one  gave  me  what  I  am 
wearing.  I  paid  for  my  clothes  myself  with  money  I 
earned  selling  moths  to  the  Bird  Woman.  I  just  came 
from  the  bank  where  I  deposited  what  I  did  not  use. 
Here  is  my  credit."  Elnora  drew  out  and  offered  the 
little  red  book.     "  Surely  you  will  believe  that,"  she  said. 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  the  girl  who  first  had  spoken. 
"We  met  such  a  lovely  woman  in  Brownlee's  store,  and 
she  said  she  wanted  our  help  to  buy  some  things  for  a 
girl,  and  that's  how  we  came  to  know." 

"Dear  Aunt  Margaret,"  said  Elnora,  "it  was  like  her 
to  ask  you.     Isn't  she  splendid  ? " 

"She  is  indeed,"  chorused  the  girls.  Elnora  set  down 
her  lunch  box  and  books,  unpinned  her  hat,  hanging  it 
beside  the  others,  and  taking  up  the  books  she  reached 
to  set  the  box  in  its  place  and  dropped  it.  With  a  little 
cry  she  snatched  at  it  and  caught  the  strap  on  top.  That 
pulled  from  the  fastening,  the  cover  unrolled,  the  box 
fell  away  as  far  as  it  could,  two  porcelain  lids  rattled  on 
the  floor,  and  the  one  sandwich  rolled  like  a  cartwheel 
across  the  room.  Elnora  lifted  a  ghastly  face.  For  once 
no  one  laughed.     She  stood  an  instant  staring. 


ELNORA  RECEIVES  A  WARNING  95 

"It  seems  to  be  my  luck  to  be  crucified  at  every  point 
of  the  compass,"  she  said  at  last.  "First  two  days  you 
thought  I  was  a  pauper,  now  you  will  think  I'm  a  fraud. 
All  of  you  will  believe  I  bought  an  expensive  box,  and 
then  was  too  poor  to  put  anything  but  a  restaurant  sand- 
wich in  it.  You  must  stop  till  I  prove  to  you  that  I'm 
not." 

Elnora  gathered  up  the  lids,  and  kicked  the  sandwich 
into  a  corner. 

"I  had  milk  in  that  bottle,  see!  And  custard  in  the 
cup.  There  was  salad  in  the  little  box,  fried  chicken  in 
the  large  one,  and  nut  sandwiches  in  the  tray.  You  can 
see  the  crumbs  of  all  of  them.  A  man  set  a  dog  on  a 
child  who  was  so  starved  he  was  stealing  apples.  I 
talked  with  him,  and  I  thought  I  could  bear  hunger  better, 
he  was  such  a  little  boy,  so  I  gave  him  my  lunch,  and  got 
the  sandwich  at  the  restaurant." 

Elnora  held  out  the  box.  The  girls  were  laughing  by 
that  time.  "You  goose,"  said  one,  "why  didn't  you  give 
him  the  money,  and  save  your  lunch?" 

"He  was  such  a  little  fellow,  and  he  really  was  hungry," 
said  Elnora.  "  I  often  go  without  anything  to  eat  at  noon 
in  the  fields  and  woods,  and  never  think  of  it." 

She  closed  the  box  and  set  it  beside  the  lunches  of  other 
country  pupils.  While  her  back  was  turned,  into  the 
room  came  the  girl  of  her  encounter  on  the  first  day, 
walked  to  the  rack,  and  with  an  exclamation  of  approval 
took  down  Elnora's  hat. 

"Just  the  thing  I  have  been  wanting!"  she  said.     "I 


96  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

never  saw  such  beautiful  quills  in  all  my  life.  They 
match  my  new  broadcloth  to  perfection.  I've  got  to  have 
that  kind  of  quills  for  my  hat.  I  never  saw  the  like! 
Whose  is  it,  and  where  did  it  come  from?" 

No  one  said  a  word,  for  Elnora's  question,  the  reply, 
and  her  answer,  had  gone  the  rounds  of  the  high  school. 
Every  one  knew  that  the  Limberlost  girl  had  come  out 
ahead  and  Sadie  Reed  had  not  felt  amiable,  when  the 
little  flourish  had  been  added  to  Elnora's  name  in  the 
algebra  class.  Elnora's  swift  glance  was  pathetic,  but 
no  one  helped  her.  Sadie  Reed  glanced  from  the  hat  to 
the  faces  around  her  and  wondered. 

"Why,  this  is  the  Freshman  section,  whose  hat  is  it?" 
she  asked  again,  this  time  impatiently. 

"That's  the  tassel  of  the  cornstock,"  said  Elnora  with 
a  forced  laugh. 

The  response  was  genuine.  Every  one  shouted.  Sadie 
Reed  blushed,  but  she  laughed  also. 

"Well,  it's  beautiful,"  she  said,  "especially  the  quills. 
They  are  exactly  what  I  want.  I  know  I  don't  deserve 
any  kindness  from  you,  but  I  do  wish  you  would  tell  me 
at  whose  store  you  got  those  quills." 

"Gladly!"  said  Elnora.  "You  can't  get  quills  like 
those  at  a  store.  They  are  from  a  living  bird.  Phcebe 
Simms  gathers  them  in  her  orchard  as  her  peacocks  shed 
them.     They  are  wing  quills  from  the  males." 

Then  there  was  a  perfect  silence.  How  was  Elnora  to 
know  that  not  a  girl  there  would  have  told  that? 

"I  haven't  a  doubt  but  I  can  get  you  some,"  she 


ELNORA  RECEIVES  A  WARNING  97 

offered.  "She  gave  Aunt  Margaret  a  great  bunch,  and 
those  are  part  of  them.  I  am  quite  sure  she  has  more, 
and  would  spare  some." 

Sadie  Reed  laughed  shortly.  "You  needn't  trouble," 
she  said,  "I  was  fooled.  I  thought  they  were  expensive 
quills.  I  wanted  them  for  a  twenty-dollar  velvet  toque 
to  match  my  new  suit.  If  they  are  picked  off  the  ground, 
really,  I  couldn't  use  them." 

" Only  in  spots ! "  said  Elnora.  "They  don't  just  cover 
the  earth.  Phoebe  Simms's  peacocks  are  the  only  ones 
within  miles  of  Onabasha,  and  they  moult  but  once  a 
year.  If  your  hat  only  cost  twenty  dollars,  it's  hardly 
good  enough  for  those  quills.  You  see,  the  Almighty 
made  and  coloured  those  Himself;  and  He  puts  the  same 
kind  on  Phoebe  Simms's  peacocks  that  He  put  on  the 
head  of  the  family  in  the  forests  of  Ceylon,  away  back  in 
the  beginning.  Any  old  manufactured  quill  from  New 
York  or  Chicago  will  do  for  your  little  twenty-dollar  hat. 
You  ought  to  have  something  infinitely  better  than  that 
to  be  worthy  of  quills  that  are  made  by  the  Creator." 

How  those  girls  did  laugh!  One  of  them  walked  by 
Elnora  to  the  auditorium,  sat  with  her  during  exercises, 
and  tried  to  talk  whenever  she  dared,  to  keep  Elnora 
from  seeing  the  curious  and  admiring  looks  bent  upon 
her.  For  the  brown-eyed  boy  whistled,  and  there  was 
pantomime  of  all  sorts  going  on  behind  Elnora's  back 
that  day.  Happy  with  her  books,  no  one  knew  how  much 
she  saw,  and  from  her  absorption  in  her  studies  it  was 
evident  she  cared  too  little  to  notice.     It  soon  developed 


98  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

that  to  be  inconspicuous  and  to  work  was  all  Elnora 
craved. 

After  school  she  went  again  to  the  home  of  the  Bird 
Woman,  and  together  they  visited  the  swamp  and  took 
away  more  specimens.  This  time  Elnora  asked  the  Bird 
Woman  to  keep  the  money  until  noon  of  the  next  day, 
when  she  would  call  for  it  and  have  it  added  to  her  bank 
account.  She  slowly  walked  home,  for  the  visit  to  the 
swamp  had  brought  back  full  force  the  experience  of  the 
morning.  Again  and  again  she  examined  the  crude  little 
note,  for  she  did  not  know  what  it  meant,  yet  it  bred 
vague  fear.  The  only  thing  on  earth  of  which  Elnora 
knew  herself  afraid  was  her  mother;  when  with  wild  eyes 
and  ears  deaf  to  childish  pleading,  she  sometimes  lost 
control  of  herself  in  the  night  and  visited  the  pool  where 
her  husband  had  sunk  before  her,  calling  his  name  in 
unearthly  tones  and  begging  of  the  swamp  to  give  back 
its  dead. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Wherein  Mrs.  Comstock  Indulges  in  "Frills/'  and 
Billy  Reappears 

It  was  Wesley  Sinton  who  really  wrestled  with  the 
problem  as  he  drove  about  his  business.  He  did  not 
have  to  ask  himself  what  it  meant;  he  knew.  The  old 
Corson  gang  was  still  holding  together.  Elder  members 
who  had  escaped  the  law  had  been  joined  by  a  younger 
brother  of  Jack's,  and  they  met  in  the  thickest  of  the  few 
remaining  fast  places  of  the  swamp  to  drink,  gamble, 
and  loaf.  Then,  suddenly,  there  would  be  a  robbery  in 
some  country  house  where  a  farmer  that  day  had  sold 
his  wheat  or  corn  and  not  paid  a  visit  to  the  bank;  or  in 
some  neighbouring  village. 

The  home  of  Mrs.  Comstock  and  Elnora  adjoined  the 
swamp.  Sinton's  land  lay  next,  and  not  another  resi- 
dence or  man  easy  to  reach  in  case  of  trouble.  Whoever 
wrote  that  note  had  some  human  kindness  in  his  breast, 
but  the  fact  stood  revealed  that  he  feared  his  strength 
if  Elnora  was  delivered  into  his  hands.  Where  had 
he  been  the  previous  night  when  he  heard  that  prayer? 
Was  that  the  first  time  he  had  been  in  such  proximity? 
Sinton   drove  fast,  for  he  wished  to  reach  the  swamp 

99 


ioo  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

before  Elnora  and  the  Bird  Woman  would  go  there  for 
more  moths. 

At  almost  four  he  came  to  the  case,  and  dropping  on 
his  knees  studied  the  ground,  every  sense  alert.  He 
found  two  or  three  little  heel  prints.  Those  were  made 
by  Elnora  or  the  Bird  Woman.  What  Sinton  wanted 
to  learn  was  whether  all  the  rest  were  the  footprints  of 
one  man.  It  was  easily  seen  they  were  not.  There  were 
deep,  even  tracks. made  by  fairly  new  shoes,  and  others 
where  a  well-worn  heel  cut  deeper  on  the  inside  of  the 
print  than  at  the  outer  edge.  Undoubtedly  some  of 
Corson's  old  gang  were  watching  the  case,  and  the  visits 
of  the  women  to  it.  There  was  no  danger  that  any  one 
would  attack  the  Bird  Woman.  She  never  went  to  the 
swamp  at  night,  and  on  her  trips  in  the  daytime,  every 
one  knew  that  she  carried  a  revolver,  understood  how 
to  use  it,  and  pursued  her  work  in  a  fearless  manner. 

Elnora,  prowling  around  the  swamp  and  lured  into  the 
interior  by  the  flight  of  moths  and  butterflies;  Elnora, 
without  father,  money,  or  friends  save  himself,  to  defend 
her  —  Elnora  was  a  different  proposition.  For  the  thing 
to  happen  just  when  the  Limberlost  was  bringing  light, 
hope,  and  the  very  desire  of  her  heart  to  the  girl,  it  was 
too  bad. 

Sinton  was  afraid  for  her,  yet  he  did  not  want  to  add 
the  burden  of  fear  to  Katharine  Comstock's  trouble, 
or  to  disturb  the  joy  of  Elnora  in  her  work.  He  stopped 
at  the  cabin  and  slowly  went  up  the  walk.  Mrs.  Corn- 
stock  was  sitting  on  the  front  step  with  some  sewing.; 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  101 

The  work  looked  to  Sinton  as  if  she  might  be  engaged 
in  putting  a  tuck  in  a  petticoat.  He  thought  of  how 
Margaret  had  shortened  Elnora's  dress  to  the  accepted 
length  for  girls  of  her  age,  and  made  a  mental  note  of 
Mrs.  Comstock's  occupation. 

Mrs.  Comstock  dropped  her  work  on  her  lap,  laid  her 
hands  on  it  and  looked  into  his  face  with  a  sneer. 

"You  didn't  let  any  grass  grow  under  your  feet,"  she 
said. 

Sinton  saw  her  white,  drawn  face  and  comprehended. 

"I  went  to  pay  a  debt  and  see  about  this  opening  of 
the  ditch,  Kate." 

"You  said  you  were  going  to  prosecute  me." 

"Good  gracious,  Kate!"  cried  Sinton.  "Is  that  what 
you  have  been  thinking  all  day?  I  told  you  before  I 
left  yesterday  that  I  would  not  need  do  that.  And  I 
won't!  We  can't  afford  to  quarrel  over  Elnora.  She's 
all  we've  got.  Now  that  she  has  proved  that  if  you 
don't  do  just  what  I  think  you  ought  by  way  of  clothes 
and  schooling,  she  can  take  care  of  herself,  I  put  that 
out  of  my  head.  What  I  came  to  see  you  about  is  a  kind 
of  scare  I've  had  to-day.  I  want  to  ask  you  if  you  ever 
see  anything  about  the  swamp  that  makes  you  think  the 
old  Corson  gang  is  still  alive?" 

"Can't  say  that  I  do,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "There's 
kind  of  dancing  lights  there  sometimes,  but  I  supposed 
it  was  just  people  passing  along  the  road  with  lanterns. 
Folks  hereabout  are  none  too  fond  of  the  swamp.  I  hate 
it  like  death.     I've  never  stayed  here  a  night  in  my  life 


102  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

without  Robert's  revolver,  clean  and  loaded,  under  my 
pillow,  and  the  shotgun,  same  condition,  by  the  bed.  I 
can't  say  that  I'm  afraid  here  at  home.  I'm  not.  I  can 
take  care  of  myself.     But  none  of  the  swamp  for  me!" 

"Well,  I'm  glad  you  are  not  afraid,  Kate,  because  I  got 
to  tell  you  something.  Elnora  stopped  at  the  case  this 
morning,  and  somebody  had  been  into  it  in  the  night." 

"Broke  the  lock?" 

"No.  Used  a  duplicate  key.  To-day  I  heard  there 
was  a  man  here  last  night.  I  want  to  nose  around  a 
little." 

Sinton  went  to  the  east  end  of  the  cabin  and  looked 
up  at  the  window.  There  was  no  way  any  one  could 
have  reached  it  without  a  ladder,  for  the  logs  were  hewed 
and  mortar  filled  the  cracks  even.  Then  he  went  to  the 
west  end;  the  willow  faced  him  as  he  turned  the  corner. 
He  examined  the  trunk  carefully.  There  was  no  mistake 
about  small  particles  of  black  swamp  muck  adhering  to 
the  sides  of  the  tree.  He  reached  the  low  branches  and 
climbed  the  willow.  There  was  earth  on  the  large  limb 
crossing  Elnora's  window.  He  stood  on  it,  holding  the 
branch  as  had  been  done  the  night  before,  and  looked 
into  the  room.  He  could  see  very  little,  but  he  knew  that 
if  it  had  been  dark  outside  and  sufficiently  light  for  Elnora 
to  study  inside  he  could  have  seen  vividly.  He  brought 
his  face  close  to  the  netting,  and  he  could  see  the  bed  with 
its  head  to  the  east,  at  its  foot  the  table  with  the  candles 
and  the  chair  before  it,  and  then  he  knew  where  the  man 
had  been  who  had  heard  Elnora's  prayer. 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  103 

Mrs.  Comstock  had  followed  around  the  corner  and 
stood  watching  him.  "Do  you  think  some  slinking  hulk 
was  up  there  peekin'  in  at  Elnora?"  she  demanded  indig- 
nantly. 

"There  is  muck  on  the  trunk,  and  plenty  on  the  limb," 
said  Sinton.  "Hadn't  you  better  get  a  saw  and  let  me 
take  this  branch  off?" 

"No,  I  hadn't,"  said  Mrs.  Comstc:k.  "First  place, 
Elnora's  climbed  from  that  window  on  that  limb  all  her 
life,  and  it's  hers.  Second  place,  no  one  gets  ahead  of 
me  after  I've  had  warning.  Any  crow  that  perches  on 
that  roost  again  will  get  its  feathers  somewhat  scattered. 
Look  along  the  fence,  there,  and  see  if  you  can  find  where 
he  came   in." 

The  place  was  easy  to  find,  as  was  a  trail  leading  for 
some  distance  west  of  the  cabin. 

"You  just  go  home,  and  don't  fret  yourself,"  said  Mrs. 
Comstock.  "I'll  take  care  of  this.  If  you  should 
hear  the  dinner  bell  at  any  time  in  the  night  you 
come  down.  But  I  wouldn't  say  anything  to  Elnora. 
She  best  keep  her  mind  on  her  studies,  if  she's  going 
to  school." 

When  the  work  was  finished  that  night  Elnora  took 
her  books  and  went  to  her  room  to  prepare  some  lessons, 
but  every  few  minutes  she  looked  toward  the  swamp  to 
see  if  there  were  lights  near  the  case.  Mrs.  Comstock 
raked  together  the  coals  in  the  cooking  stove,  got  out 
the  lunch  box,  and  sitting  down  she  studied  it  grimly. 
At  last  she  arose. 


*o4  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Wonder  how  it  would  do  to  show  Mag  Sinton  a  frill 
or  two,"  she  murmured. 

She  went  to  her  room,  knelt  by  a  big  black-walnut 
chest  and  hunted  through  its  contents  until  she  found 
an  old-fashioned  cook  book.  She  tended  the  fire  as  she 
read  and  presently  was  in  action.  She  first  sawed  an 
end  from  a  fragrant,  juicy,  sugar-cured  ham  and  put 
it  to  cook.  Then  she  set  a  couple  of  eggs  boiling,  and 
after  long  hesitation  began  creaming  butter  and  sugar 
in  a  crock.  An  hour  later  the  odour  of  the  ham,  mingled 
with  some  of  the  richest  spices  of  "happy  Araby,"  in  a 
combination  that  could  mean  nothing  save  spice  cake, 
;  crept  up  to  Elnora  so  strongly  that  she  lifted  her  head 
and  sniffed  amazedly.  She  would  have  given  all  her 
precious  money  to  go  down  and  throw  her  arms  around 
her  mother's  neck,  but  she  did  not  dare  move,  even  to 
open  the  door  for  a  better  smell. 

Mrs.  Comstock  was  up  early,  and  without  a  word 
handed  Elnora  the  case  as  she  left  the  next  morning. 

"Thank  you,  mother,"  said  Elnora,  and  went  on  her 
way. 

She  walked  down  the  road  looking  straight  ahead  until 
she  came  to  the  corner,  where  she  usually  entered  the 
swamp.  She  paused,  glanced  that  way  and  smiled. 
Then  she  turned  and  looked  back.  There  was  no  one 
coming  in  any  direction.  She  kept  to  the  road  until 
well  around  the  corner,  then  she  stopped  and  sat  on  a 
grassy  spot,  laid  her  books  beside  her  and  opened  the 
lunch  box.     Last  night's  odours  had  in  a  measure  pre- 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  105 

pared  her  for  what  she  would  see,  but  not  quite.  She 
scarcely  could  believe  her  senses.  Half  the  bread  com- 
partment was  filled  with  dainty  sandwiches  of  bread  and 
butter  sprinkled  with  the  yolk  of  egg  and  the  rest  with 
three  large  slices  of  the  most  fragrant  spice  cake  imagi- 
nable. The  meat  dish  contained  shaved  cold  ham,  of 
which  she  knew  the  quality,  the  salad  was  tomatoes  and 
celery,  and  the  cup  held  preserved  pear,  clear  as  amber. 
There  was  milk  in  the  bottle,  two  tissue-wrapped  cucum- 
ber pickles  in  the  folding  drinking-cup,  and  a  fresh  napkin 
in  the  ring.  No  lunch  was  ever  daintier  or  more  palatable ; 
of  that  Elnora  was  perfectly  sure.  And  her  mother  had 
prepared  it  for  her! 

She  glanced  around  her  and  then  to  her  old  refuge,  the 
sky.  "She  does  love  me!"  cried  the  happy  girl.  "Sure 
as  you're  born  she  loves  me;  she  just  hasn't  found  it 
out  yet!" 

She  touched  the  papers  daintily,  and  smiled  at  the 
box  as  if  it  were  a  living  thing.  As  she  began  closing 
it  a  breath  of  air  swept  by,  lifting  the  covering  of  the 
cake.  It  was  like  an  invitation,  and  breakfast  was 
several  hours  away.  Elnora  picked  up  a  piece  and  ate 
it.  That  cake  tasted  even  better  than  it  looked.  Then 
she  tried  a  sandwich.  How  did  her  mother  come  to 
think  of  making  them  that  way.  They  never  had  any 
at  home.  She  slipped  out  the  fork,  sampled  the  salad, 
and  one  quarter  of  pear.  Then  she  closed  the  box  and 
started  down  the  road  nibbling  one  of  the  pickles  and 
trying  to  decide  exactly  how  happy  she  was,  but  just 


106  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

then  she  could  find  no  standard  high  enough  for  a  measure. 
She  was  to  go  to  the  Bird  Woman's  after  school  for 
the  last  load  from  the  case.  Saturday  she  would  take 
the  arrow  points  and  specimens  to  the  bank.  That 
would  exhaust  her  present  supplies  and  give  her  enough 
money  ahead  to  pay  for  books,  tuition,  and  clothes  for 
at  least  two  years.  She  would  work  early  and  late 
gathering  nuts.  In  October  she  would  sell  all  the  ferns 
she  could  find.  She  must  collect  specimens  of  all  tree 
leaves  before  they  fell,  gather  nests  and  cocoons  later, 
and  keep  her  eyes  wide  open  for  anything  the  grades 
could  use.  She  would  see  the  superintendent  that  night 
about  selling  specimens  to  the  ward  buildings.  She  must 
be  ahead  of  any  one  else  if  she  wanted  to  furnish  these 
things.     So  she  approached  the  bridge. 

That  it  was  occupied  could  be  seen  from  a  distance. 
As  she  came  up  she  found  the  small  boy  of  yesterday 
awaiting  her  with  a  confident  smile. 

"We  brought  you  something!"  he  announced  without 
greeting.  "This  is  Jimmy  and  Belle  —  and  we  brought 
you  a  present." 

He  offered  a  parcel  wrapped  in  brown  paper. 

"  Why,  how  lovely  of  you ! "  said  Elnora.  "  I  supposed 
you  had  forgotten  me  when  you  ran  away  so  fast  yester- 
day." 

"  Naw,  I  didn't  forget  you,"  said  the  boy.  "  I  wouldn't 
forget  you,  not  ever!  Why,  I  was  ist  a-hurrying  to  take 
them  things  to  Jimmy  and  Belle.     My,  they  was  glad!" 

Elnora  glanced  at  the  children.     They  sat  on  the  edge 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  107 

of  the  bridge,  obviously  clad  in  a  garment  each,  very 
dirty  and  unkept,  a  little  boy  and  a  girl  of  about  seven 
and  nine.     Elnora's  heart  began  to  ache. 

"Say,"  said  the  boy.  "Ain't  you  going  to  look  what 
we  have  gave  you?" 

"I  thought  it  wasn't  polite  to  look  before  people," 
answered  Elnora.  "Of  course,  I  will,  if  you  would  like 
to  have  me." 

Elnora  opened  the  package.  She  had  been  presented 
with  a  quarter  of  a  stale  loaf  of  baker's  bread,  and  a 
big  piece  of  ancient  bologna." 

"But  don't  you  want  this  yourselves?"  she  asked  in 
surprise. 

"Gosh,  no!  I  mean  ist  plain  no,"  said  the  boy.  "We 
always  have  it.  We  got  stacks  this  morning.  Pa's 
come  out  of  it  now,  and  he's  so  sorry  he  got  more  'an  ever 
we  can  eat.     Have  you  had  any  before?" 

"No,"  said  Elnora,  " I  never  did ! " 

The  boy's  eyes  brightened  and  the  girl  moved  rest- 
lessly. 

"We  thought  maybe  you  hadn't,"  said  the  boy.  "First 
you  ever  have,  you  like  it  real  well;  but  when  you  don't 
have  anything  else  for  a  long  time,  years  an'  years,  you 
git  so  tired." 

He  hitched  at  the  string  which  held  his  trousers  and 
eyed  Elnora  speculatively. 

"I  don't  s'pose  you'd  trade  what  you  got  in  that  box 
for  ist  old  bread  and  bologna  now,  would  you  ?  Mebby 
you'd  like  it!      And  I  know,  I  ist  know,  what  you  got 


io8  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

would  taste  like  heaven  to  Jimmy  and  Belle.  They  never 
had  nothing  like  that!  Not  even  Belle,  and  she's  most 
ten!     No,  sir-ee,  they  never  tasted  things  like  you  got!" 

It  was  in  Elnora's  heart  to  be  thankful  that  she  had 
got  even  a  taste  in  time,  as  she  knelt  on  the  bridge, 
opened  the  box  and  divided  her  lunch  into  three  equal 
parts,  the  smaller  boy  getting  most  of  the  milk.  Then 
she  told  them  it  was  school  time  and  she  must  go. 

"Why  don't  you  put  your  bread  and  bologna  in  the 
nice  box?"  asked  the  boy. 

"Of  course,"  said  Elnora.     "I  didn't  think." 

When  the  box  was  arranged  to  the  children's  satisfac- 
tion all  of  them  accompanied  Elnora  to  the  corner  where 
she  turned  toward  the  high  school.  Elnora  and  Billy 
led  the  way,  Jimmy  and  Belle  followed. 

"Billy,"  said  Elnora,  "I  would  like  you  much  better 
if  you  were  cleaner.  Surely,  you  have  water!  Can't 
you  children  get  some  soap  and  wash  yourselves?  Gen- 
tlemen are  never  dirty.  You  want  to  be  a  gentleman, 
don't  you?" 

"  Is  being  clean  all  you  have  to  do  to  be  a  gentleman  ? " 

"No,"  said  Elnora.  "You  must  not  say  bad  words, 
and  you  must  be  kind  and  polite  to  your  sister." 

"Must  Belle  be  kind  and  polite  to  me,  else  she  ain't 
a  lady?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  Belle's  no  lady!"  said  Billy  succinctly. 

Elnora  could  say  nothing  more  just  then,  and  she  bade 
them  good-bye  and  started  them  home 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  109 

"The  poor  little  souls!"  she  mused.  "I  think  the 
Almighty  put  them  in  my  way  to  show  me  real  trouble. 
I  won't  be  likely  to  spend  much  time  pitying  myself 
while  I  can  see  them."  She  glanced  at  the  lunch  box. 
"What  on  earth  do  I  carry  this  for?  I  never  had  any- 
thing that  was  so  strictly  ornamental!  One  sure  thing! 
I  can't  take  this  stuff  to  the  high  school.  You  never 
seem  to  know  just  what  is  going  to  happen  to  you  while 
you  are  there." 

As  if  to  provide  a  way  out  of  her  difficulty  a  big  dog 
arose  from  a  lawn,  and  came  toward  the  gate  wagging  his 
tail.  "  If  those  children  ate  the  stuff,  it  can't  possibly  kill 
him!"  thought  Elnora,  so  she  offered  the  bologna.  The 
dog  accepted  it  graciously,  and  being  a  pedigreed  beast 
he  trotted  around  to  a  side  porch  and  laid  the  bologna 
before  his  mistress.  The  woman  snatched  it,  screaming, 
"Come,  quick!  Some  one  is  trying  to  poison  Pedro!" 
Her  daughter  came  running  from  the  house.  "Go  see 
who  is  on  the  street.     Hurry!"  cried  the  excited  mother. 

Ellen  Brownlee  ran  and  looked.  Elnora  was  a  half 
block  away,  and  no  one  nearer.  Ellen  called  loudly,  and 
Elnora  stopped.     Ellen  came  running  toward  her. 

"Did  you  see  any  one  give  our  dog  something?"  she 
cried  as  she  approached. 

Elnora  saw  no  escape. 

"I  gave  it  a  piece  of  bologna  myself,"  she  said.  "It 
was  fit  to  eat.     It  wouldn't  hurt  the  dog." 

Ellen  stood  and  looked  at  her.  "Of  course,  I  didn't 
know  it  was  your  dog,"  explained   Elnora.     "I  just  had 


no  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

something  I  wanted  to  throw  to  some  dog,  and  that  one 
looked  big  enough  to  manage  it." 

Ellen  had  arrived  at  her  conclusions.  "Pass  over 
that  lunch  box,"  she  demanded. 

"I  will  not!"  said  Elnora. 

"Then  I  will  have  you  arrested  for  trying  to  poison 
our  dog,"  laughed  the  girl  as  she  took  the  box. 

"One  chunk  of  stale  bread,  one  half  mile  of  antique 
bologna  contributed  for  dog  feed;  the  remains  of  cake, 
salad  and  preserves  in  an  otherwise  empty  lunch  box. 
One  ham  sandwich  yesterday.  I  think  it's  lovely  you 
have  the  box.     Who  got  your  lunch?" 

"Same,"  confessed  Elnora,  "but  there  were  three  of 
them  to-day." 

"Wait,  until  I  run  back  and  tell  mother  about  the  dog, 
and  get  my  books." 

Elnora  waited,  and  that  morning  she  walked  down  the 
hall  and  into  the  auditorium  beside  one  of  the  very 
nicest  girls  in  Onabasha,  and  it  was  the  fourth  day.  But 
the  surprise  came  at  noon  when  Ellen  insisted  upon 
Elnora  lunching  at  the  Brownlee  home,  and  convulsed 
her  parents  and  family  and  overwhelmed  Elnora  by  a 
greatly  magnified  but  moderately  accurate  history  of 
her  lunch  box. 

"Gee!  but  it's  a  box,  daddy!"  cried  the  laughing  girl. 
"It's  carved  leather  and  fastens  with  a  strap  that's  got 
her  name  on  it.  Inside  are  trays  for  things  all  complete, 
and  it  bears  evidence  of  having  enclosed  delicious  food, 
but  Elnora  never  gets  any.     She's  carried  it  two  days  now, 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  in 

and  both  times  it  has  been  empty  before  she  reached 
school.     Isn't  that  killing?" 

"It  is,  Ellen,  in  more  ways  than  one.  No  girl  is  going 
to  eat  breakfast  at  six  o'clock,  walk  three  miles,  and  do 
good  work  with  no  lunch.  You  can't  tell  me  anything 
about  that  box.  I  sold  it  last  Monday  night  to  Wesley 
Sinton,  one  of  my  good  country  customers.  He  told 
me  it  was  a  present  for  a  girl  who  was  worthy  of  it,  and  I 
see  he  was  right." 

"He's  so  good  to  me,"  said  Elnora.  "Sometimes  I 
look  at  him  and  wonder  if  a  neighbour  can  be  so  kind 
to  one,  what  a  real  father  would  be  like.  I  envy  a  girl 
with  a  father  unspeakably." 

"You  have  cause,"  said  Ellen  Brownlee.  "A  father 
is  the  very  nicest  thing  in  the  whole  round  world,  except 
a  mother,  who  is  just  as  nice."  The  girl,  starting  to 
pay  tribute  to  her  father,  saw  that  she  must  include 
her  mother,  and  said  the  thing  before  she  remembered 
what  Mrs.  Sinton  had  told  the  girls  in  the  store.  She 
stopped  in  dismay.  Elnora's  face  paled  a  trifle,  but  she 
smiled  bravely. 

"Then  I'm  fortunate  in  having  a  mother,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Brownlee  lingered  at  the  table  after  the  girls  had 
excused  themselves  and  returned  to  school. 

"There's  a  girl  Ellen  can't  see  too  much  of,  in  my 
opinion,"  he  said.  "She  is  every  inch  a  lady,  and  not 
a  foolish  notion  or  action  about  her.  I  can't  understand 
just  what  combination  of  circumstances  produced  her  in 
this  day." 


112  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"It  has  been  an  unusual  case  of  repression,  for  one 
thing.  She  waits  on  her  elders  and  thinks  before  she 
speaks,"  said  Mrs.  Brownlee. 

"She's  mighty  pretty.  She  looks  so  sound  and  whole- 
some, and  she's  neatly  dressed." 

"Ellen  says  she  was  a  fright  the  first  two  days.  Long 
brown  calico  dress  almost  touching  the  floor,  and  big,  lum- 
bering shoes.  Those  Sinton  people  bought  her  clothes. 
Ellen  was  in  the  store,  and  the  woman  stopped  her 
crowd  and  asked  them  about  their  dresses.  She  said  the 
girl  was  not  poor,  but  her  mother  was  selfish  and  didn't 
care  for  her.  But  Elnora  showed  a  bank-book  the  next 
day,  and  declared  that  she  paid  for  the  things  herself, 
so  the  Sinton  people  must  just  have  selected  them. 
There's  something  peculiar  about  it,  but  nothing  wrong 
I  am  sure.     I'll  encourage  Ellen  to  ask  her  again." 

"Well,  I  should  say  so,  especially  if  she  is  going  to 
keep  on  giving  away  her  lunch." 

"She  lunched  with  the  Bird  Woman  one  day  this 
week." 

"She  did!" 

"Yes,  she  lives  out  by  the  Limberlost.  You  know 
the  Bird  Woman  works  there  a  great  deal,  and  probably 
knows  her  that  way.  I  think  the  girl  gathers  specimens 
for  her.  Ellen  says  she  knows  more  than  the  teachers 
about  any  nature  question  that  comes  up,  and  she  is 
going  to  lead  all  of  them  in  mathematics,  and  make  them 
work  in  any  branch." 

When  Elnora  entered  the  coat  room  after  having  had 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  113 

luncheon  with  Ellen  Brownlee  there  was  such  a  difference 
in  the  atmosphere  that  she  could  feel  it. 

"I  am  almost  sorry  I  have  these  clothes,"  she  said 
to  Ellen. 

"In  the  name  of  sense,  why?"  cried  the  astonished  girl. 

"Everyone  is  so  nice  to  me  in  them,  it  just  sets  me  to 
wondering  if  in  time  I  could  have  made  them  be  equally 
friendly  in  the  others." 

Ellen  looked  at  her  introspectively. 

"Well,  sir,  I  believe  you  could,"  she  announced  at 
last.  "But  it  would  have  taken  time  and  heartache,  and 
your  mind  would  have  been  less  free  to  work  on  your 
studies.  No  one  is  happy  without  friends,  and  I  just 
simply  can't  study  when  I  am  unhappy." 

That  night  the  Bird  Woman  made  the  last  trip  to  the 
swamp.  Every  specimen  she  possibly  could  use  had 
been  purchased  at  a  fair  price,  and  three  additions  had 
been  made  to  the  bank-book,  carrying  the  total  a  little 
past  two  hundred  dollars.  There  remained  the  Indian 
relics  to  sell  on  Saturday,  and  Elnora  had  secured  the 
order  to  furnish  material  for  nature  work  for  the  grades. 
Life  suddenly  grew  very  full.  There  was  the  most 
excitingly  interesting  work  for  every  hour,  and  that  work 
was  to  pay  high  school  expenses  and  start  the  college 
fund.  There  was  just  one  little  rift  in  her  joy.  All  of  it 
would  have  been  so  much  better  if  she  could  have  told 
her  mother,  and  given  the  money  into  her  keeping.  But 
the  struggle  to  get  a  start  had  been  so  terrible,  Elnora  was 
afraid  to  take  the  risk. 


H4  A  GIRL  OF  THE  L1MBERL0ST 

When  she  reached  home,  she  only  told  her  mother  that 
the  last  of  the  things  had  been  sold  that  evening. 

"I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock,  "that  we  will  get 
Wesley  to  move  that  box  over  here  back  of  the  garden 
for  you.  There  you  are  apt  to  get  tolled  farther  into 
the  swamp  than  you  intend  to  go,  and  you  might  mire 
or  something.  There  ought  to  be  just  the  same  things 
in  our  woods,  and  along  our  swampy  places,  as  there 
are  in  the  Limberlost.     Can't  you  hunt  your  stuff  here?" 

"I  can  try,"  said  Elnora.  "I  don't  know  what  I  can 
find  until  I  do.  Our  woods  are  undisturbed,  and  there 
is  a  possibility  they  might  be  even  better  hunting  than 
the  swamp.  But  I  wouldn't  have  Freckles's  case  moved 
for  the  world.  He  might  come  back  some  day,  and  not 
like  it.  I've  tried  to  keep  his  room  the  best  I  could,  and 
taking  out  the  box  would  make  a  great  hole  in  one  side  of 
it.  Store  boxes  don't  cost  much.  I  will  have  Uncle 
Wesley  buy  me  one,  and  set  it  up  wherever  hunting  looks 
the  best,  early  in  the  spring.     I  would  feel  safer  at  home." 

"Shall  we  do  the  work  or  have  supper  first?" 

"Let's  do  the  work,"  said  Elnora.  "I  can't  say  that 
I'm  hungry  now.  Don't  seem  as  if  I  ever  could  be  hun- 
gry again  with  such  a  lunch.  I  am  quite  sure  no  one 
carried  more  delicious  things  to  eat  than  I." 

Mrs.  Comstock  was  pleased.  "I  put  in  a  pretty  good 
hunk  of  cake,"  she  said.  "Did  you  divide  it  with  any 
one?" 

"Why,  yes,  I  did,"  admitted  Elnora. 

"Who?" 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  115 

Things  were  getting  uncomfortable.  "I  ate  the  big- 
gest piece  myself,"  said  Elnora,  "and  gave  the  rest  to 
a  couple  of  boys  named  Jimmy  and  Billy  and  a  girl 
named  Belle.  They  said  it  was  very  best  cake  they  ever 
tasted  in  all  their  lives." 

Mrs.  Comstock  sat  straight.  "I  used  to  be  a  master 
hand  at  spice  cake,"  she  boasted.  "But  I'm  a  little 
out  of  practice.  I  must  get  to  work  again.  With  the 
very  weeds  growing  higher  than  our  heads,  we  should 
get  plenty  of  good  stuff  to  eat  off  this  land,  if  we  can't 
afford  anything  else  but  taxes." 

Elnora  laughed  and  hurried  upstairs  to  change  her 
dress. 

Margaret  Sinton  came  that  night  bringing  a  beautiful 
blue  one  in  its  stead,  and  carried  away  the  other  to 
launder. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  those  dresses  are  to  be  washed 
every  two  days?"  questioned  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"They  have  to  be,  to  look  fresh,"  replied  Margaret. 
"We  want  our  girl  sweet  as  a  rose." 

"Well,  of  all  things!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Every 
two  days!  Any  girl  who  can't  keep  a  dress  clean  longer 
than  that  is  a  dirty  girl.  You'll  wear  the  goods  out  and 
fade  the  colours  with  so  much  washing." 

"We'll  have  a  clean  girl,  anyway." 

"Well,  if  you  like  the  job  you  can  have  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Comstock.  "I  don't  mind  the  washing,  but  I'm  so  in- 
convenient with  an  iron." 

Elnora  sat  late  that  night  working  hard  over  her  lessons. 


n6  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

The  next  morning  she  put  on  her  blue  dress  and  ribbon 
and  in  those  she  was  a  picture.  Mrs.  Comstock  caught 
her  breath  with  a  queer  stirring  around  her  heart,  and 
looked  twice  to  be  sure  of  what  she  saw.  As  Elnora 
gathered  her  books  her  mother  silently  gave  her  the  lunch 
box. 

"Feels  heavy,"  said  Elnora  gaily.  "And  smelly!  Like 
as  not  I'll  be  called  upon  to  divide  again." 

"Then  you  divide!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Eating  is 
the  one  thing  we  don't  have  to  economize  on,  Elnora. 
Spite  of  all  I  can  do  food  goes  to  waste  in  this  soil  every 
day.  If  you  can  give  some  of  those  city  children  a  taste 
of  the  real  thing,  why,  don't  be  selfish." 

Elnora  went  down  the  road  thinking  of  the  city  chil- 
dren with  whom  she  probably  would  divide.  Of  course, 
the  bridge  would  be  occupied  again.  So  she  stopped  and 
opened  the  box.  Undoubtedly  Mrs.  Comstock  was 
showing  Margaret  Sinton  the  "frills."  The  cake  was 
still  fresh,  and  there  were  four  slices.  The  sandwiches 
had  to  be  tasted  twice  before  Elnora  discovered  that 
beechnuts  had  been  used  in  a  peanut  recipe,  and  they 
were  a  great  improvement.  There  were  preserved  straw- 
berries in  the  cup,  potato  salad  with  mint  and  cucumber 
in  the  dish,  and  a  beautifully  browned  squab  from  the 
stable  loft. 

"I  don't  want  to  be  selfish,"  murmured  Elnora,  "but 
it  just  seems  as  if  I  can't  give  away  this  lunch.  If  mother 
did  not  put  love  into  it,  she's  substituted  something  that's 
likely  to  fool  me." 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  117 

She  almost  felt  her  steps  lagging  as  she  approached 
the  bridge.  A  very  hungry  dog  had  been  added  to  the 
trio  of  children.  Elnora  loved  all  dogs,  and,  as  usual, 
this  one  came  to  her  in  friendliness.  The  children  said 
"Good  morning!"  with  alacrity,  and  another  paper  parcel 
lay  conspicuous. 

"How  are  you  this  morning?"  inquired  Elnora. 

"All  right!"  cried  the  three,  while  the  dog  sniffed 
ravenously  at  the  lunch  box,  and  beat  a  perfect  tattoo 
with  his  tail. 

"How  did  you  like  the  bologna?"  questioned  Billy 
eagerly. 

"One  of  the  girls  took  me  to  lunch  at  her  home  yester- 
day," answered  Elnora. 

Dawn  broke  beautifully  over  Billy's  streaked  face. 
He  caught  the  package  and  thrust  it  toward  Elnora. 

"Then  maybe  you'd  like  to  try  the  bologna  to-day!" 

The  dog  leaped  in  glad  apprehension  of  something, 
and  Belle  scrambled  to  her  feet  and  took  a  step  forward. 
The  look  of  famished  greed  in  her  eyes  was  more  than 
Elnora  could  bear.  It  was  not  that  she  cared  for  the 
food  so  much.  Good  things  to  eat  had  been  in  abundance 
all  her  life.  She  wanted  with  this  lunch  to  try  to  absorb 
what  she  felt  must  be  an  expression  of  some  sort  from 
her  mother,  and  if  it  was  not  a  manifestation  of  love, 
she  did  not  know  what  to  think  it.  But  it  was  her  mother 
;who  had  said  "be  generous."  She  knelt  on  the  bridge. 
"Keep  back  the  dog!"  she  warned  the  elder  boy. 

She  opened   the  box   and   divided   the   milk  between 


n8  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Billy  and  the  girl.  She  gave  each  a  piece  of  cake,  leav- 
ing one  and  a  sandwich.  Billy  pressed  forward  eagerly, 
bitter  disappointment  on  his  face,  and  the  elder  boy  for- 
got his  charge. 

"Aw,  I  thought  they'd  be  meat!"  lamented  Billy. 

Elnora  gave  way. 

"There  is!"  she  said  gladly.  "There  is  a  little  pigeon 
bird.  I  want  just  a  teeny  piece  of  the  breast,  for  a  sort 
of  keepsake,  just  one  bite,  and  you  can  have  the  rest 
among  you." 

Elnora  drew  the  knife  from  its  holder  and  cut  off  the 
wishbone.     Then  she  held  the  bird  toward  the  girl. 

"You  can  divide  it,"  she  said.  The  dog  made  a  bound 
and  seizing  the  squab  sprang  from  the  bridge  and  ran 
for  life.  The  girl  and  boy  hurried  after  him.  With 
awful  eyes  Billy  stared  and  swore  tempestuously.  El- 
nora caught  him  and  clapped  her  hand  over  the  little 
mouth.  A  delivery  wagon  came  tearing  down  the  street, 
the  horse  running  full  speed,  passed  the  fleeing  dog  with 
the  girl  and  boy  in  pursuit,  and  stopped  at  the  bridge. 
High  school  girls  began  to  roll  from  all  sides  of  it. 

"A  rescue!     A  rescue!"  they  shouted. 

It  was  Ellen  Brownlee  and  her  crowd,  and  every  girl 
of  them  carried  a  big  parcel.  They  took  in  the  scene 
as  they  approached.  The  fleeing  dog  with  something 
in  its  mouth,  the  half-naked  girl  and  boy  chasing  it  told 
the  story.  Those  girls  screamed  with  laughter  as  they 
watched  the  pursuit. 

"Thank  goodness,  I  saved  the  wishbone!"  said  Elnora. 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  119 

"As  usual,  I  can  prove  that  there  was  a  bird."  She 
turned  toward  the  box.  Billy  had  improved  the  time. 
He  had  the  last  piece  of  cake  in  one  hand,  and  the  last 
bite  of  salad  disappeared  in  one  great  gulp.  Then  the 
girls  shouted  again. 

"Let's  have  a  sample  ourselves,"  suggested  one.  She 
caught  up  the  box  and  handed  out  the  remaining  sand- 
wich. Another  girl  divided  it  into  bites  each  little  over 
an  inch  square,  and  then  she  lifted  the  cup  lid  and  de- 
posited a  preserved  strawberry  on  each  bite.  "One, 
two,  three,  altogether  now!"  she  cried. 

Billy  let  out  a  roar.  "You  old  mean  things!"  he 
screamed. 

In  an  instant  he  was  down  in  the  road  and  handfuls 
of  dust  began  to  fly  among  them.  The  girls  scattered 
before  him. 

"Billy!"  cried  Elnora.  "Billy!  I'll  never  give  you 
another  bite  as  long  as  I  live,  if  you  throw  dust  on  any 
one!" 

Then  Billy  dropped  the  dust,  bored  both  fists  into  his 
eyes,  and  fled  sobbing  into  Elnora's  new  blue  skirt.  She 
stooped  to  meet  him  and  consolation  began.  Those  girls 
laughed  on.  They  screamed  and  shouted  until  the  little 
bridge  shook. 

"To-morrow  might  as  well  be  a  clear  day,"  said  Ellen, 
passing  around  and  feeding  the  remaining  berries  to  the 
girls  as  they  could  compose  themselves  enough  to  take 
them.  "Billy,  I  admire  your  taste  more  than  your 
temper." 


120  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Elnora  looked  up.  "The  little  soul  is  nothing  but  skin 
and  bones,"  she  said.  "I  never  was  really  hungry  my- 
self; were  any  of  you?" 

"Well,  I  should  say  so,"  cried  a  plump,  rosy  girl.  "I'm 
famished  right  now.     Let's  have  breakfast  immediate!" 

"We  got  to  refill  this  box  first!"  said  Ellen  Brownlee. 
"Who's  got  the  butter?"  A  girl  advanced  with  a  wooden 
tray. 

"Put  it  in  the  preserve  cup,  a  little  strawberry  flavour 
won't  hurt  it.     Next ! "  called  Ellen. 

A  loaf  of  bread  was  produced  and  Ellen  cut  off  a  piece 
which  filled  the  sandwich  box. 

"Next!"  A  bottle  of  olives  was  unwrapped.  The 
grocer's  boy  who  was  waiting  opened  that,  and  Ellen 
filled  the  salad  dish. 

"Next!" 

A  bag  of  macaroons  was  produced  and  the  cake  com- 
partment filled. 

"Next!" 

"I  don't  suppose  this  will  make  quite  as  good  dog 
feed  as  a  bird,"  laughed  a  girl  holding  open  a  bag  of 
sliced  ham  while  Ellen  filled  the  meat  dish. 

"Next!" 

A  box  of  candy  was  handed  her  and  she  stuffed  every 
corner  of  the  lunch  box  with  chocolates  and  nougat. 
Then  it  was  closed  and  formally  presented  to  Elnora. 
The  girls  each  helped  themselves  to  candy  and  olives, 
and  gave  Billy  the  remainder  of  the  food.  Billy  took 
one  bite  of  ham,  and  approved.     Belle  and  Jimmy  had 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  INDULGES  IN  FRILLS  121 

given  up  chasing  the  dog  and,  angry  and  ashamed,  stood 
waiting  a  half  block  away. 

"Come  back!"  screamed  Billy.  "You  great  big 
dunces,  come  backl  They's  a  new  kind  of  meat,  and  cake 
and  candy." 

The  boy  delayed,  but  the  girl  joined  Billy.  Ellen  wiped 
her  fingers,  stepped  to  the  cement  abutment  and  began 
reciting  "Horatio  at  the  Bridge!"  substituting  Elnora 
wherever  the  hero  appeared  in  the  lines. 

Elnora  gathered  up  the  sacks,  and  gave  them  to  Belle, 
telling  her  to  take  the  food  home,  cut  and  spread  the 
bread,  set  things  on  the  table,  and  eat  nicely. 

Then  Elnora  was  hustled  into  the  wagon  with  the  girls, 
and  driven  on  the  run  to  the  high  school.  They  sang  a 
song  beginning  — 

"Elnora,  please  give  me  a  sandwich. 
I'm  ashamed  to  ask  for  cake," 

as  they  went.  Elnora  did  not  know  it,  but  that  was 
her  initiation.  She  belonged  to  "the  crowd."  She  only 
knew  that  she  was  happy,  and  vaguely  wondered  what 
her  mother  and  Aunt  Margaret  would  have  said  about 
the  proceedings. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Wherein    Mrs.    Comstock   Manipulates    Margaret 
and  Billy  Acquires  a  Residence 

Saturday  morning  Elnora  helped  her  mother  with  the 
work.  When  she  had  finished  Mrs.  Comstock  told  her 
to  go  to  Simons'  and  wash  her  Indian  relics,  so  that  she 
would  be  ready  to  accompany  Wesley  to  town  in  the 
afternoon.  Elnora  hurried  down  the  road  and  was  soon 
at  the  cistern  with  a  tub,  busily  washing  arrow  points, 
stone  axes,  tubes,  pipes,  and  skin-cleaning  implements. 
There  were  not  so  many  points  as  she  had  supposed,  and 
some  she  had  thought  the  finest  were  chipped  and  broken; 
still  there  was  quite  a  large  box  of  perfect  pieces  to  carry 
to  the  city. 

Then  Elnora  hurried  home,  dressed  and  was  waiting 
when  the  carriage  reached  the  gate.  She  stopped  at  the 
bank  with  the  box,  and  Sinton  went  to  do  his  marketing 
and  a  little  shopping  for  his  wife. 

At  the  dry  goods  store  Mr.  Brownlee  called  to  him, 
"Hello,  Sinton!  How  do  you  like  the  fate  of  your  lunch 
box?"     Then  he  began  to  laugh. 

"  I  always  hate  to  see  a  man  laughing  alone,"  said  Sinton. 
"  It  looks  so  selfish !  Tell  me  the  fun,  and  let  me  help  you." 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       123 

Brownlee  wiped  his  eyes. 

"I  supposed  you  knew,  but  I  see  she  hasn't  told." 

Then  the  three  days'  history  of  the  lunch  box  was  re- 
peated with  particulars  which  included  the  dog. 

"Now  laugh!"  concluded  Brownlee. 

"Blest  if  I  see  anything  funny!"  replied  Sinton.  "And 
if  you  had  bought  that  box  and  furnished  one  of  those 
lunches  yourself,  you  wouldn't  either.  I  call  such  a  work 
a  shame!     I'll  have  it  stopped." 

"Some  one  must  see  to  that,  all  right.  They  are  little 
leeches.  Their  father  earns  enough  to  ^support  them, 
but  they  have  no  mother,  and  they  run  wild.  I 
suppose  they  are  crazy  for  cooked  food.  But  it  is 
funny,  and  when  you  think  it  over  you  will  see  it, 
if  you  don't  now." 

"About  where  would  a  body  find  that  father?"  inquired 
Sinton  grimly.  Mr.  Brownlee  told  him  and  he  started, 
locating  the  house  with  little  difficulty.  House  was  the 
proper  word,  for  of  home  there  was  no  sign.  Just  a  small 
empty  house  with  three  unkept  little  children  racing 
through  and  around  it.  The  girl  and  the  elder  boy  hung 
back,  but  dirty  little  Billy  greeted  Sinton  with,  "What 
you  want  here?" 

"  I  want  to  see  your  father,"  said  Sinton. 

"Well,  he's  asleep,"  said  Billy. 

"Where?"  asked  Sinton. 

"In  the  house,"  answered  Billy,  "and  you  can't  wake 
him." 

"Well,  I'll  try,"  said  Wesley. 


I24  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Billy  led  the  way.  "There  he  is!"  he  said.  "He  is 
drunk  again." 

On  a  dirty  mattress  in  a  corner  lay  a  sleeping  man  who 
appeared  to  be  strong  and  well. 

Billy  was  right.  You  could  not  awake  him.  He  had 
gone  the  limit,  and  a  little  beyond.  He  was  now  facing 
eternity. 

Sinton  went  out  and  closed  the  door. 

"Your  father  is  sick  and  needs  help,"  he  said.  "You 
stay  here,  and  I  will  send  a  man  to  see  him." 

"If  you  just  let  him  'lone,  he'll  sleep  it  off,"  volun- 
teered Billy.  "He's  that  way  all  the  time,  but  he  wakes 
up  and  gets  us  something  to  eat  after  a  while.  Only 
waitin'  twists  you  up  inside  pretty  bad." 

The  boy  wore  no  air  of  complaint.  He  was  merely 
stating  facts. 

Wesley  Sinton  looked  hard  at  Billy.  "Are  you  twisted 
up  inside  now?"  he  asked. 

Billy  laid  a  grimy  hand  on  the  region  of  his  stomach 
and  the  filthy  little  waist  sank  close  to  the  backbone. 
"Bet  yer  life,  boss,"  he  said  cheerfully. 

"How  long  have  you  been  twisted?"  asked  Sinton. 

Billy  appealed  to  the  others.  "When  was  it  we  had 
the  stuff  on  the  bridge?" 

"Yesterday  morning,"  said  the  girl. 

"Is  that  all  gone?"  asked  Sinton. 

"She  went  and  told  us  to  take  it  home,"  said  Billy 
ruefully,  "and  'cause  she  said  to,  we  took  it.  Pa  had 
come  back,  he  was  drinking  some  more,  and  he  ate  a 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       125 

lot  of  it  —  'most  the  whole  thing,  and  it  made  him  sick 
as  a  dog,  and  he  went  and  wasted  all  of  it.  Then  he 
got  drunk  some  more,  and  now  he's  asleep  again.  We 
didn't  get  hardly  none." 

"You  children  sit  on  the  steps  until  the  man  comes," 
said  Sinton.  "I'll  send  you  some  things  to  eat  with  him. 
What's  your  name,  sonny?" 

"Billy,"  said  the  boy. 

"Well,  Billy,  I  guess  you  better  come  with  me.  I'll 
take  care  of  him,"  Sinton  promised  the  others.  He 
reached  a  hand  to  Billy. 

"I  ain't  no  baby,  I'm  a  boy!"  said  Billy,  as  he  shuffled 
along  beside  Sinton,  taking  a  kick  at  every  movable  object 
without  regard  to  his  battered  toes. 

Once  they  passed  a  great  Dane  dog  lolling  after  its 
master,  and  Billy  ascended  Sinton  as  if  he  was  a  tree, 
and  clung  to  him  with  trembling  hot  hands. 

"I  ain't  afraid  of  that  dog,"  scoffed  Billy,  as  he  was 
again  placed  on  the  walk,  "but  onc't  he  took  me  for  a 
rat  or  somepin'  and  his  teeth  cut  into  my  back.  If  I'd 
done  right,  I'd  a  took  the  law  on  him." 

Sinton  looked  down  into  the  indignant  little  face. 
The  child  was  bright  enough,  he  had  a  good  head,  but, 
oh,  such  a  body! 

"I  'bout  got  enough  of  dogs,"  said  Billy.  "I  used  to 
like  'em,  but  I'm  getting  pretty  tired.  You  ought  to 
seen  the  lickin'  Jimmy  and  Belle  and  me  give  our  dog 
when  we  caught  him,  for  taking  the  little  bird  she  gave 
us.     We  waited   'till  he  was   asleep,  'nen  laid   a  board 


126  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

on  him  and  all  of  us  jumped  on  it  to  onc't.  You  could 
a  heard  him  yell  a  mile.  Belle  said  mebbe  we  could 
squeeze  the  bird  out  of  him.  But,  squeeze  nothing!  He 
was  holler  as  us,  and  that  bird  was  lost  long  'fore  it  got 
to  his  stummick.  It  was  ist  a  little  one,  anyway.  Belle 
said  it  wouldn't  'a'  made  a  bite  apiece  for  three  of  us  no- 
how, and  the  dog  got  one  good  swaller.  We  didn't  get 
much  of  the  meat,  either.  Pa  took  most  of  that.  Seems 
like  pas  and  dogs  gets  everything." 

Billy  laughed  ruefully.  Involuntarily  Wesley  Sinton 
reached  his  hand.  They  were  coming  into  the  business 
part  of  Onabasha  and  the  streets  were  crowded.  Billy 
understood  it  to  mean  that  he  might  lose  his  companion 
and  took  a  grip.  That  little  hot  hand  clinging  tight  to 
his,  the  sore  feet  recklessly  scouring  the  walk,  the  hungry 
child  panting  for  breath  as  he  tried  to  keep  even,  the 
brave  soul  jesting  in  the  face  of  hard  luck,  caught  Sinton 
in  a  tender,  empty  spot. 

"Say,  son,"  he  said.  "How  would  you  like  to  be 
washed  clean,  and  have  all  the  supper  your  skin  could 
hold,  and  sleep  in  a  good  bed?" 

"Aw,  gee!"  said  Billy.  "I  ain't  dead  yet!  Them 
things  is  in  heaven!  Poor  folks  can't  have  them.  Pa 
said  so." 

"Well,  you  can  have  them  if  you  want  to  go  with  me 
and  get  them,"  promised  Sinton. 

"Honest?" 

"Yes,  honest." 

"Crost  yer  heart?" 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       127 

"Yes,"  said  Sinton. 

"Kin  I  take  some  to  Jimmy  and  Belle?" 

"If  you'll  come  with  me  and  be  my  boy,  I'll  see  that 
they  have  plenty." 

"What  will  pa  say?" 

"Your  pa  is  in  that  kind  of  sleep  now  where  he  won't 
wake  up,  Billy,"  said  Sinton.  "I  am  pretty  sure  the  law 
will  give  you  to  me,  if  you  want  to  come." 

"When  people  don't  ever  wake  up  they're  dead,"  an- 
nounced Billy.     "Is  my  pa  dead?" 

"Yes,  he  is,"  answered  Sinton. 

"And  you'll  take  care  of  Jimmy  and  Belle,  too?" 

"I  can't  adopt  all  three  of  you,"  said  Sinton.  "I'll 
take  you,  and  see  that  they  are  well  provided  for.  Will 
you  come?" 

"Yep,  I'll  come,"  said  Billy.  "Let's  eat,  first  thing 
we  do." 

"All  right,"  agreed  Sinton.  "Come  into  this  restau- 
rant." He  lifted  Billy  to  the  lunch  counter  and  ordered 
the  clerk  to  give  him  as  many  glasses  of  milk  as  he  wanted, 
and  a  biscuit.  "I  think  there's  going  to  be  fried  chicken 
when  we  get  home,  Billy,"  he  said,  "so  you  just  take  the 
edge  off  now,  and  fill  up  later." 

While  Billy  lunched  Sinton  called  up  the  different 
departments  and  notified  the  proper  authorities, 
ending  with  the  Women's  Relief  Association.  He 
sent  a  basket  of  food  to  Belle  and  Jimmy,  bought  Billy 
a  pair  of  trousers,  and  a  shirt,  and  went  to  bring 
Elnora. 


128  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Why,  Uncle  Wesley!"  cried  the  girl.  "Where  die 
you  find  Billy?" 

"I've  adopted  him  for  the  time  being,  if  not  longer," 
replied  Sinton. 

"Where  did  you  get  him?"  queried  the  astonished  El- 
nora. 

"Well,  young  woman,"  said  Sinton,  "Mr.  Brownlee 
told  me  the  history  of  your  lunch  box.  It  didn't  seem 
so  funny  to  me  as  it  does  to  the  rest  of  them;  so  I  went 
to  look  up  the  father  of  Billy's  family,  and  make  him 
take  care  of  them,  or  allow  the  law  to  do  it  for  him.  It 
will  have  to  be  the  law." 

"He's  deader  than  anything!"  broke  in  Billy.  "He 
can't  ever  take  all  the  meat  any  more." 

"Billy!"  gasped  Elnora. 

"Never  you  mind!"  said  Sinton.  "A  child  don't  say 
such  things  about  a  father  who  loved  and  raised  him 
right.  When  it  happens,  the  father  alone  is  to  blame. 
You  won't  hear  Billy  talk  like  that  about  me  when  I 
cross  over." 

"You  don't  mean  you  are  going  to  take  him  to  keep!" 

"I'll  soon  need  help,"  said  Sinton.  "Billy  will  come 
in  just  about  right  ten  years  from  now,  and  if  I  raise  him 
I'll  have  him  the  way  I  want  him." 

"But  Aunt  Margaret  don't  like  boys,"  objected  El- 
nora. 

"Well,  she  likes  me,  and  I  used  to  be  a  boy.  Any- 
way, as  I  remember  she  has  had  her  way  about  everything 
at  our  house  ever  since  we  were   married.     I  am   going 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       129 

to  please  myself  about  Billy.  Hasn't  she  always  done 
just  as  she  chose  so  far  as  you  know?     Honest,  Elnora!" 

"Honest!"  replied  Elnora.  "You  are  beautiful  to  all 
of  us,  Uncle  Wesley;  but  Aunt  Margaret  won't  like  Billy. 
She  won't  want  him  in  her  home." 

"In  our  home,"  corrected  Sinton. 

"What  makes  you  want  him?"  marvelled  Elnora. 

"God  only  knows,"  said  Sinton.  "Billy  ain't  so  beau- 
tiful, and  he  ain't  so  smart;  I  guess  it's  because  he's  so 
human.     My  heart  goes  out  to  him." 

"So  did  mine,"  said  Elnora.  "I  love  him.  I'd  rather 
see  him  eat  my  lunch  than  have  it  myself  any  time." 

"What  makes  you  like  him?"  asked  Sinton. 

"Why,  I  don't  know,"  pondered  Elnora.  "He's  so 
little,  he  needs  so  much,  he's  got  such  splendid  grit,  and 
he's  perfectly  unselfish  with  his  brother  and  sister.  But 
we  must  wash  him  before  Aunt  Margaret  sees  him.  I 
wonder  if  mother ?" 

"You  needn't  bother.  I'm  going  to  take  him  home 
the  way  he  is,"  said  Sinton.  "I  want  Maggie  to  see  the 
worst  of  it." 

"I'm  afraid "  began  Elnora. 

"So  am  I,"  said  Sinton,  "but  I  won't  give  him  up. 
He's  taken  a  sort  of  grip  on  my  heart.  I've  always  been 
crazy  for  a  boy.     Don't  let  him  hear  us." 

"Don't  let  him  get  killed!"  cried  Elnora.  During 
their  talk  Billy  had  wandered  to  the  edge  of  the  walk 
and  barely  escaped  the  wheels  of  a  passing  automobile 
in  an  effort  to  catch  a  stray  kitten  that  seemed  in  danger. 


130  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Sinton  drew  Billy  back  to  the  walk,  and  held  his  hand 
closely. 

"Are  you  ready,  Elnora?" 

"Yes;  you  were  gone  a  long  time,"  she  said. 

Sinton  glanced  at  a  package  she  carried.  "Have  to 
have  another  book?"  he  asked. 

"No,  I  got  this  for  mother.  I've  had  such  splendid 
luck  selling  my  specimens,  I  didn't  feel  right  about  keep- 
ing all  the  money  for  myself,  so  I  saved  enough  from  the 
Indian  relics  to  get  a  few  things  I  wanted.  I  would  have 
liked  to  have  gotten  her  a  dress,  but  I  didn't  dare,  so  I 
compromised  on  a  book." 

"What  did  you  select,  Elnora?"  asked  Sinton  won- 
deringly. 

"Well,"  said  she,  "I  have  noticed  mother  always 
seemed  interested  in  anything  Mark  Twain  wrote  in 
the  newspapers,  and  I  thought  it  would  cheer  her  up  a 
little,  so  I  just  got  his  'Innocents  Abroad.'  I  haven't 
read  it  myself,  but  I've  seen  mention  made  of  it  all  my 
life,  and  the  critics  say  it's  genuine  fun." 

"Good!"  cried  Sinton.  "Good!  You've  made  a  splen- 
did choice.  It  will  take  her  mind  off  herself  a  lot.  But 
she  will  scold  you." 

"Of  course,"  assented  Elnora.  "But  possibly  she 
will  read  it,  and  feel  better.  I'm  going  to  serve  her  a 
trick.  I  am  going  to  hide  it  until  Monday,  and  set  it 
on  her  little  shelf  of  books  the  last  thing  before  I  go  away. 
She  must  have  all  of  them  by  heart.  When  she  sees  a 
new  one  she  can't  help  being  glad,  for  she  loves  to  read, 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       131 

and  if  she  has  all  day  to  get  interested,  maybe  she'll  like 
it  so  she  won't  scold  so  much." 

"We  are  both  in  for  it,  but  I  guess  we  are  prepared. 
I  don't  know  what  Margaret  will  say,  but  I'm  going  to 
take  Billy  home  and  see.  Maybe  he  can  win  with  her,  as 
he  did  with  us." 

Elnora  had  her  doubts,  but  she  did  not  say  anything  more. 

When  they  started  home  Billy  sat  on  the  front  seat. 
He  drove  with  the  hitching  strap  tied  to  the  railing  of 
the  dashboard,  flourished  the  whip,  and  yelled  with  de- 
light. At  first  Sinton  laughed  with  him,  but  by  the 
time  he  left  Elnora  with  several  packages  at  her  gate, 
he  was  looking  serious  enough. 

Margaret  was  at  the  door  as  they  drove  up  the  lane. 
Sinton  left  Billy  in  the  carriage,  hitched  the  horses  and 
went  to  explain  to  her.  He  had  not  reached  her  before 
she  cried,  "Look,  Wesley,  that  child!  You'll  have  a 
runaway!" 

Wesley  looked  and  ran.  Billy  was  standing  in  the 
carriage  slashing  the  mettlesome  horses  with  the  whip. 

"See  me  make  'em  go!"  he  shouted  as  the  whip  fell  a 
second  time. 

He  did  make  them  go.  They  took  the  hitching  post 
and  a  few  fence  palings,  which  scraped  the  paint  from 
a  wheel.  Sinton  missed  the  lines  at  the  first  effort,  but 
the  dragging  post  impeded  the  horses,  and  he  soon  caught 
them.  He  led  them  to  the  barn,  and  ordered  Billy  to 
remain  in  the  carriage  while  he  unhitched.  Then  leading 
Billy  and  carrying  his  packages  he  entered  the  yard. 


i32  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"You  run  play  a  few  minutes,  Billy,"  he  said.  "I 
want  to  talk  to  the  nice  lady." 

The  nice  lady  was  looking  rather  stupefied  as  Sinton 
approached  her. 

"Where  in  the  name  of  sense  did  you  get  that  awful 
child?"  she  demanded. 

"He  is  a  young  gentleman  who  has  been  stopping 
Elnora  and  eating  her  lunch  every  day,  part  of  the  time 
with  the  assistance  of  his  brother  and  sister,  while  our 
girl  went  hungry.  Brownlee  told  me  about  it  at  the  store. 
It's  happened  three  days  running.  The  first  time  she 
did  without  anything,  the  second  time  Brownlee's  girl 
took  her  to  lunch,  and  the  third  a  crowd  of  high  school 
girls  bought  a  lot  of  stuff  and  met  them  at  the  bridge. 
The  youngsters  seemed  to  think  they  could  rob  her  every 
day,  so  I  went  to  see  their  father  about  having  it  stopped." 

"Well,  I  should  think  so!"  cried  Margaret. 

"There  were  three  of  them,  Margaret,"  said  Sinton, 
"that  little  fellow " 

"Hyena,  you  mean,"  interpolated  Margaret. 

"'Hyena',"  corrected  Sinton  gravely,  "and  another 
boy  and  a  girl,  all  equally  dirty  and  hungry.  The  man 
was  dead.  They  thought  he  was  in  a  drunken  sleep, 
but  he  was  stone  dead.  I  brought  the  little  boy  with 
me,  and  sent  the  officers  and  other  help  to  the  house. 
He's  half  starved.  I  want  to  wash  him,  and  put  clean 
clothes  on  him,  and  give  him  some  supper." 

"Have  you  got  anything  to  put  on  him?" 

"Ye&." 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       133 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"Bought  it.  It  ain't  much.  All  I  got  didn't  cost  a 
dollar. 

"A  dollar  is  a  good  deal  when  you  work  and  save  for 
it  the  way  we  do." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  a  better  place  to  put  it.  Have 
you  got  any  hot  water?  I'll  use  this  tub  at  the  cistern. 
Please  give  me  some  soap  and  towels." 

Instead  Margaret  pushed  by  him  with  a  shriek.  Billy 
had  played  by  producing  a  cord  from  his  pocket,  and 
having  tied  the  tails  of  Margaret's  white  kittens  together, 
he  had  climbed  on  a  box  and  hung  them  across  the 
clothes  line.  Wild  with  fright  the  kittens  were  clawing 
each  other  to  death,  and  the  air  was  white  with  fur. 
The  string  had  twisted  and  the  frightened  creatures  could 
not  recognize  friends.  Margaret  stepped  back  with 
bleeding  hands.  Sinton  cut  the  cord  with  his  knife 
and  the  poor  little  cats  raced  under  the  house  bleed- 
ing and  disfigured.  Margaret,  white  with  wrath,  faced 
Sinton. 

"If  you  don't  hitch  up  and  take  that  animal  back  to 
town,"  she  said,  "I  will  " 

Billy  threw  himself  on  the  grass  and  began  to  scream. 

"You  said  I  could  have  fried  chicken  for  supper,"  he 
wailed.     "You  said  she  was  a  nice  lady!" 

Sinton  lifted  him  and  something  in  his  manner  of  hand- 
ling the  child  infuriated  Margaret.  His  touch  was  so 
gentle.  She  reached  for  Billy  and  gripped  his  shirt  collar 
in  the  back.     Sinton's  hand  closed  over  hers. 


134  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Gently,  girl!",  he  said.  "This  little  body  is  covered 
with  sores." 

"Sores!"  she  ejaculated.  "Sores!  What  kind  of 
sores  ? " 

"Oh,  they  might  be  from  bruises  made  by  fists  or 
boot  toes,  or  they  might  be  bad  blood,  from  wrong  eating, 
or  they  might  be  pure  filth.  Will  you  hand  me  some 
towels?" 

"No,  I  won't!"  said  Margaret. 

"Well,  give  me  some  rags,  then." 

Margaret  compromised  on  pieces  of  old  tablecloth. 

Sinton  led  Billy  to  the  cistern,  pumped  cold  water 
into  the  tub,  poured  in  a  kettle  of  hot,  and  beginning 
at  the  head  scoured  him.  The  boy  shut  his  little  teeth, 
and  said  never  a  word,  though  he  twisted  occasionally 
when  the  soap  struck  a  raw  spot.  Margaret  watched 
the  process  from  the  window  in  amazed  and  ever-in- 
creasing anger.  Where  did  Wesley  learn  it?  How 
could  his  big  hands  be  so  gentle?  Sinton  came  to  the 
door. 

"Have  you  got  any  peroxide?"  he  asked. 

"A  little,"  she  answered  stiffly. 

"Well,  I  need  about  a  pint,  but  I'll  begin  on  what  you 
have." 

Margaret  handed  him  the  bottle.  Wesley  took  a  cup, 
weakened  the  drug,  and  said  to  Billy,  "Man,  these  sores 
on  you  must  be  healed.  Then  you  must  eat  the  kind  of 
food  that's  fit  for  little  men.  I  am  going  to  put  some 
medicine  on  you,  and  it  is  going  to  sting  like  fire.     If  it 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       135 

j  List  runs  off,  I  won't  use  any  more.  If  it  boils,  there  is 
poison  in  these  places,  and  they  must  be  tied  up,  dosed 
every  day,  and  you  must  be  washed,  and  kept  mighty 
clean.     Now,  hold  still,  because  I  am  going  to  put  it  on." 

"I  think  the  one  on  my  leg  is  the  worst,"  said  the 
undaunted  Billy,  holding  out  a  raw  place.  Sinton  poured 
on  the  drug.  Billy's  body  twisted  and  writhed,  but  he 
did  not  run. 

"Gee,  look  at  it  boil!"  he  cried.  "I  guess  they's 
poison.     You'll  have  to  do  it  to  all  of  them." 

Sinton's  teeth  were  set  as  he  watched  the  boy's  face. 
He  poured  the  drug,  strong  enough  to  do  effective  work, 
on  a  dozen  places  over  that  little  body  and  bandaged  all 
he  could.  Billy's  lips  quivered  at  times,  and  his  chin 
jumped,  but  he  did  not  shed  a  tear  or  utter  a  sound 
other  than  to  take  a  deep  interest  in  the  boiling.  As 
Sinton  put  the  small  shirt  on  the  boy,  and  fastened  the 
trousers,  he  was  ready  to  reset  the  hitching  post  and  mend 
the  fence  without  a  word. 

''Now  am  I  clean?"  asked  Billy. 

"Yes,  you  are  clean  outside,"  said  Sinton.  "There 
is  some  dirty  blood  in  your  body,  and  some  bad  words 
in  your  mouth,  that  we  have  to  get  out,  but  that  takes 
time.  If  we  put  right  things  to  eat  into  your  stomach 
that  will  do  away  with  the  sores,  and  if  you  know  that 
I  don't  like  bad  words  you  won't  say  them  any  oftener 
than  you  can  help,  will  you,  Billy?" 

Billy  leaned  against  Sinton  in  apparent  indifference.. 

"I  want  to  see  me!"  he  demanded. 


136  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Sinton  led  the  boy  into  the  house,  and  lifted  him  to  a 
mirror. 

"My,  I'm  purty  good-looking,  ain't  I?"  bragged  Billy. 
Then  as  Sinton  stooped  to  set  him  on  the  floor  Billy's 
lips  passed  close  to  the  big  man's  ear  and  hastily  whispered 
a  vehement  "No!"  as  he  ran  for  the  door. 

"How  long  until  supper,  Margaret?"  asked  Sinton  as 
he  followed. 

"You  are  going  to  keep  him  for  supper?"  she  asked. 

"Sure!"  said  Sinton.  "That's  what  I  brought  him 
for.  It's  likely  he  never  had  a  good  square  meal  of  de- 
cent food  in  his  life.     He's  starved  to  the  bone." 

Margaret  rose  deliberately,  removed  the  white  cloth 
from  the  supper  table  and  substituted  an  old  red  one 
she  used  to  wrap  the  bread.  She  put  away  the  pretty 
dishes  they  commonly  used  and  set  the  table  with  old 
plates  for  pies  and  kitchen  utensils.  But  she  fried  the 
chicken,  and  was  generous  with  milk  and  honey,  snowy 
bread,  gravy,  potatoes,  and  fruit. 

Sinton  repainted  the  scratched  wheel.  He  mended 
the  fence,  with  Billy  holding  the  nails  and  handing  the 
pickets.  Then  he  filled  the  old  hole,  digged  a  new  one, 
and  set  the  hitching  post. 

Billy  hopped  on  one  foot  at  his  task  of  holding  the 
post  steady  as  the  earth  was  packed  around  it.  There 
was  not  the  shadow  of  a  trouble  on  his  little  freckled 
face.  Sinton  threw  in  stones  and  pounded  the  earth 
solid  around  the  post.  The  sound  of  a  gulping  sob  at- 
tracted him  to  Billy.      The  tears  were  rolling  down  his 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       137 

cheeks.  "If  I'd  'a'  knowed  you'd  have  to  get  down  in  a 
hole  and  work  so  hard  I  wouldn't  'a'  hit  the  horses," 
he  said. 

"Never  you  mind,  Billy,"  said  Sinton.  "You  will 
know  next  time,  so  you  can  think  over  it,  and  make  up 
your  mind  whether  you  really  want  to  before  you  strike." 

Sinton  went  to  the  barn  to  put  away  the  tools.  He 
thought  Billy  was  at  his  heels,  but  the  boy  lagged  on  the 
way.  A  big  snowy  turkey  gobbler  resented  the  small 
intruder  in  his  especial  preserves,  and  with  spread  tail 
and  dragging  wings  came  at  him  threateningly.  If  that 
turkey  gobbler  had  known  the  sort  of  things  with  which 
Billy  was  accustomed  to  holding  his  own,  he  never  would 
have  issued  that  challenge.  Billy  accepted  instantly. 
He  danced  around  with  stiff  arms  at  his  sides  and  imitated 
the  gobbler.  Then  came  his  opportunity,  and  he  jumped 
on  the  big  turkey's  back.  Wesley  heard  Margaret's 
scream  in  time  to  see  the  flying  leap  and  admire  its 
dexterity.  The  turkey  tucked  its  tail  and  scampered. 
Billy  slid  from  its  back  and  as  he  fell  he  clutched  wildly, 
caught  the  folded  tail,  and  instinctively  hung  on  for 
life.  The  turkey  gave  one  scream  and  relaxed  its  muscles. 
Then  it  fled  in  disfigured  defeat  to  the  haystack.  Billy 
scrambled  to  his  feet  holding  the  tail,  and  his  eyes  were 
bulging. 

"Why,  the  blasted  old  thing  came  off!"  he  said  to 
Sinton,  holding  out  the  tail  in  amazed  wonder. 

Sinton,  caught  suddenly,  forgot  everything  and  roared. 
Seeing  which,  Billy  thought  a  turkey  tail  of  no  account 


138  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

and  flung  that  one  high  above  him,  shouting  in  wild 
childish  laughter  as  the  feathers  scattered  and  fell. 

Margaret,  watching,  burst  into  tears.  Wesley  had 
gone  mad.  For  the  first  time  in  her  married  life  she 
wanted  to  tell  her  mother.  When  Wesley  had  waited 
until  he  was  so  hungry  he  could  wait  no  longer  he  in- 
vaded the  kitchen  to  find  a  cooked  supper  baking  on  the 
back  of  the  stove,  while  Margaret  with  red  eyes  nursed 
a  pair  of  demoralized  white  kittens. 

"Is  supper  ready?"  he  asked. 

"It  has  been  for  an  hour,"  answered  Margaret. 

"Why  didn't  you  call  us?" 

That  "us"  had  too  much  comradeship  in  it.  It  irri- 
tated Margaret. 

"I  supposed  it  would  take  you  even  longer  than  that 
to  fix  things  decent  again.  As  for  my  turkey,  and  my 
poor  little  kittens,  they  don't  matter." 

"I  am  mighty  sorry  about  them,  Margaret,  you  know 
that.     Billy  is  very  bright,  and  he  will  soon  learn " 

"Soon  learn!"  cried  Margaret.  "Wesley  Sinton,  you 
don't  mean  to  say  that  you  think  of  keeping  that  creature 
here  for  some  time?" 

"No,  I  think  of  keeping  a  decent,  well-behaved  little 
boy." 

Margaret  set  the  supper  on  the  table.  Seeing  the 
old  red  cloth  Wesley  stared  in  amazement.  Then  he 
understood.     Billy  capered  around  in  delight. 

"Ain't  that  pretty?"  he  exulted.  "I  wish  Jimmy  and 
Belle  could  see.     We,  why  we  ist  eat  out  of  our  hands  or 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       139 

off  a  old  dry  goods  box,  and  when  we  fix  up  a  lot,  we  have 
newspaper.     We  ain't  ever  had  a  nice  red  cloth  like  this." 

Wesley  looked  straight  at  Margaret,  so  intently  that 
she  turned  away,  her  face  flushing.  He  stacked  the 
dictionary  and  the  geography  of  the  world  on  a  chair, 
and  lifted  Billy  beside  him.  He  heaped  a  plate  generously, 
cut  the  food,  put  a  fork  into  Billy's  little  fist,  and  made 
him  eat  slowly  and  properly.  Billy  did  his  best.  Occa- 
sionally greed  overcame  him,  and  he  used  his  left  hand 
to  pop  a  bite  into  his  mouth  with  his  fingers.  These 
lapses  Wesley  patiently  overlooked,  and  went  on  with 
his  general  instructions.  Luckily  Billy  did  not  spill 
anything  on  his  clothing  or  the  cloth.  After  supper 
Wesley  took  him  to  the  barn  until  he  finished  the  night 
work.  Then  he  went  and  sat  by  Margaret  on  the  front 
porch.  Billy  appropriated  the  hammock,  and  swung 
by  pulling  a  rope  tied  around  a  tree.  The  very  energy 
with  which  he  went  at  the  work  of  swinging  himself 
appealed  to  Wesley. 

"Mercy,  but  he's  an  active  little  body,"  he  said. 
"There  isn't  a  lazy  bone  in  him.  See  how  he  works  to 
pay  for  his  fun." 

"There  goes  his  foot  through  it!"  cried  Margaret. 
"Wesley,  he  shall  not  ruin  my  hammock." 

"Of  course  he  shan't!"  said  Wesley.  "Wait,  Billy, 
let  me  show  you." 

Thereupon  he  explained  to  Billy  that  ladies  wearing 
beautiful  white  dresses  sat  in  hammocks,  so  little  boys 
must  not  put  their  dusty  feet  in  them.     They  must  just 


i4o  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

sit  in  them,  and  let  their  feet  hang  down.  Billy  imme- 
diately sat,  and  allowed  his  feet  to  swing. 

"Margaret,"  said  Sinton  after  a  long  silence  on  the 
porch,  "isn't  it  true  that  if  Billy  had  been  a  half-starved 
sore  cat,  dog,  or  animal  of  any  sort,  that  you  would  have 
pitied  and  helped  care  for  it,  and  been  glad  to  see  me 
get  any  pleasure  out  of  it  I  could  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Margaret  coldly. 

"But  because  I  brought  a  child  with  an  immortal  soul, 
there  is  no  welcome." 

"That  isn't  a  child,  it's  an  animal." 

"You  just  said  you  would  have  welcomed  an  animal." 

"Not  a  wild  one.     I  meant  a  tame  beast." 

"Billy  is  not  a  beast!"  said  Wesley  hotly.  "He  is 
a  very  dear  little  boy.  Margaret,  you've  always  done 
the  church-going  and  Bible  reading  for  this  family.  How 
do  you  reconcile  that  'Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto 
Me'  with  the  way  you  are  treating  Billy?" 

Margaret  arose.  "I  haven't  treated  that  child.  I 
have  only  let  him  alone.  I  can  barely  hold  myself.  He 
needs  the  hide  tanned  about  off  him!" 

"If  you'd  cared  to  look  at  his  body  you'd  know  that 
you  couldn't  find  a  place  to  strike  without  cutting  into 
a  raw  spot,"  said  Sinton.  "Besides,  Billy  has  not  done 
a  thing  for  which  a  child  should  be  punished.  He  is 
only  full  of  life,  no  training,  and  with  a  boy's  love  of 
mischief.  He  did  abuse  your  kittens,  but  an  hour  before 
I  saw  him  risk  his  life  to  save  one  from  being  run  over. 
He  minds  what  you  tell  him,  and  doesn't  do  anything 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET      141 

he  is  told  not  to.  He  thinks  of  his  brother  and  sister 
right  away  when  anything  pleases  him.  He  took  that 
stinging  medicine  with  the  grit  of  a  bulldog.  He  is  just 
a  bully  little  chap,  and  I  love  him." 

"Oh,  good  heavens!"  cried  Margaret,  going  into  the 
house  as  she  spoke. 

Sinton  sat  still.  At  last  Billy,  tired  of  the  swing,  came 
to  him  and  leaned  his  slight  body  against  the  big  knee. 

"Am  I  going  to  sleep  here?"  he  asked. 

"Sure  you  are!"  said  Sinton. 

Billy  swung  his  feet  as  he  laid  across  Wesley's  knee. 
"Come  on,"  said  Sinton,  "I  must  clean  you  up  for 
bed." 

"You  have  to  be  just  awful  clean  here,"  announced 
Billy.  "I  like  to  be  clean,  you  feel  so  good,  after  the 
hurt  is  over." 

Sinton  registered  that  remark,  and  worked  with 
especial  tenderness  as  he  redressed  the  ailing  places  and 
washed  the  dust  from  Billy's  feet  and  hands. 

"Where  can  he  sleep?"  he  asked  Margaret. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  she  answered. 

"Oh,  I  can  sleep  ist  any  place,"  said  Billy.  "On  the 
floor  or  anywhere.  Home,  I  sleep  on  pa's  coat  on  a  store- 
box,  and  Jimmy  and  Belle  they  sleep  on  the  storebox, 
too.  I  sleep  between  them,  so's  I  don't  roll  off  and  crack 
my  head.     Ain't  you  got  a  storebox  and  a  old  coat?" 

Sinton  arose  and  opened  a  folding  lounge.  Then  he 
brought  an  armload  of  clean  horse  blankets  from  a  closet. 

"These  don't  look  like  the  nice  white  bed  a  little  boy 


142  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

should  have,  Billy,"  he  said,  "but  we'll  make  them  do. 
This  will  beat  a  storebox  all  hollow." 

Billy  took  a  long  leap  for  the  lounge.  When  he  found 
it  bounced,  he  proceeded  to  bounce,  until  he  was  tired. 
By  that  time  the  blankets  had  to  be  refolded.  Wesley 
had  Billy  take  one  end  and  help,  while  both  of  them 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  job.  Then  Billy  lay  down  and 
curled  up  in  his  clothes  like  a  little  dog.  But  sleep  would 
not  come.  Finally  he  sat  up.  He  stared  around  rest- 
lessly. Then  he  arose,  went  to  Sinton,  and  leaned  against 
his  knee.  Sinton  picked  up  the  boy  and  folded  his  arms 
around  him.     Billy  sighed  in  rapturous  content. 

"That  bed  feels  so  lost  like,"  he  said.  "Jimmy  always 
jabbed  me  on  one  side,  and  Belle  on  the  other,  and  so 
I  knew  I  was  there." 

Sinton  laughed  the  best  he  could. 

"Do  you  know  where  they  are?"  asked  Billy. 

"They  are  with  kind  people  who  gave  them  a  fine  sup- 
per, a  clean  bed,  and  will  always  take  good  care  of  them." 

"I  wisht  I  was"  —  Billy  hesitated  and  looked  earnestly 
at  Sinton.     "I  mean,  I  wish  they  was  here." 

"You  are  about  all  I  can  manage,  Billy,"  said  Sinton. 

Billy  sat  up.  "Can't  she  manage  anything?"  he  asked, 
waving  toward  Margaret. 

"Indeed,  yes,"  said  Sinton.  "She  has  managed  me 
for  twenty  years." 

"My,  but  she  made  you  nice!"  said  Billy.  "I  just 
love  you.  I  wisht  she'd  take  Jimmy  and  Belle  and  make 
them  nice  as  you." 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       143 

"She  isn't  strong  enough  to  do  that,  Billy.  They  will 
grow  into  a  good  boy  and  girl  where  they  are." 

Billy  slid  from  Sinton's  arms  and  walked  toward  Mar- 
garet until  he  reached  the  middle  of  the  room.  Then 
he  stopped,  and  at  last  sat  on  the  floor.  Finally  he  lay 
down  and  closed  his  eyes.  "This  feels  more  like  my  bed; 
if  only  Jimmy  and  Belle  was  here  to  crowd  up  a  little, 
so  it  wasn't  so  alone  like." 

"Won't  I  do,  Billy?"  asked  Sinton  in  a  husky  voice. 

Billy  moved  restlessly.  "  Seems  like  —  seems  like  — 
toward  night  as  if  a  body  got  kind  o'  lonesome  for  a 
woman  person  —  like  her." 

Billy  indicated  Margaret  and  then  closed  his  eyes  so 
tight  his  small  face  wrinkled. 

Soon  he  was  up  again.  "'Wisht  I  had  Snap,"  he  said. 
"Oh,  IistwishtlhadSnap!" 

"I  thought  you  laid  a  board  on  Snap  and  jumped  on 
it,"  said  Sinton. 

"We  did!"  cried  Billy  —  "oh,  you  ought  to  heard 
him  squeal!"  Billy  laughed  loudly,  then  his  face  clouded. 
"But  I  want  Snap  to  lay  beside  me  so  bad  now  —  that 
if  he  was  here  I'd  give  him  a  piece  of  my  chicken,  'fore 
I  ate  any.     Do  you  like  dogs?" 

"Yes,  I  do,"  said  Sinton. 

Billy  was  up  instantly.     "Would  you  like  Snap?" 

"I  am  sure  I  would,"  said  Sinton. 

"Would  she?"  Billy  indicated  Margaret.  And  then 
he  answered  his  own  question.  "But  of  course,  she 
wouldn't,  cos  she  likes  cats,  and  dogs  chases  cats.     O, 


144  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

dear,  I  thought  for  a  minute  maybe  Snap  could  come 
here."     Billy  lay  down  and  closed  his  eyes  resolutely. 

Suddenly  they  flew  open.  "Does  it  hurt  to  be  dead?" 
he  demanded. 

"Nothing  hurts  you  after  you  are  dead,  Billy,"  said 
Sinton. 

"Yes,  but  I  mean  does  it  hurt  getting  to  be  dead?" 

"Sometimes  it  does.  It  did  not  hurt  your  father, 
Billy.     It  came  softly  while  he  was  asleep." 

"It  ist  came  softly?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  kind  o'  wisht  he  wasn't  dead ! "  said  Billy.  "  'Course 
I  like  to  stay  with  you,  and  the  fried  chicken,  and  the 
nice  soft  bed,  and  —  and  everything,  and  I  like  to  be 
clean,  but  he  took  us  to  the  show,  and  he  got  us  gum,  and 
he  never  hurt  us  when  he  wasn't  drunk." 

Billy  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  tightly  closed  his  eyes. 
But  very  soon  they  opened.  Then  he  sat  up.  He  looked 
at  Sinton  pitifully,  and  then  he  glanced  at  Margaret. 
"You  don't  like  boys,  do  you?"  he  questioned. 

"I  like  good  boys,"  said  Margaret. 

Billy  was  at  her  knee  instantly.  "Well,  say,  I'm  a 
good  boy!"  he  announced  joyously. 

"I  do  not  think  boys  who  hurt  helpless  kittens  and  pull 
out  turkeys'  tails  are  good  boys." 

"Yes,  but  I  didn't  hurt  the  kittens,"  explained  Billy. 
"They  got  mad  'bout  ist  a  little  fun  and  scratched  each 
other.  I  didn't  s'pose  they'd  act  like  that.  And  I 
didn't  pull  the  turkey's  tail.     I  ist  held  on  to  the  first 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET      145 

thing  I  grabbed,  and  the  turkey  pulled.  Honest,  it  was  the 
turkey  pulled."  He  turned  to  Sinton.  "You  tell  her!  Didn't 
the  turkey  pull?     I  didn't  know  its  tail  was  loose,  did  I?" 

"I  don't  think  you  did,  Billy,"  said  Sinton. 

Billy  stared  into  Margaret's  cold  face.  "Sometimes 
at  night  Belle  sits  on  the  floor,  and  I  lay  my  head  in  her 
lap.  I  could  pull  up  a  chair  and  lay  my  head  in  your  lap. 
Like  this,  I  mean."  Billy  pulled  up  a  chair,  climbed  on 
it  and  laid  his  head  on  Margaret's  lap.  Then  he  shut  his 
eyes  again.  Margaret  could  have  looked  little  more  re- 
pulsed if  he  had  been  a  snake. 

Billy  was  soon  up. 

"My,  but  your  lap  is  hard,"  he  said.  "And  you  are 
a  good  deal  fatter  'an  Belle,  too!"  He  slid  from  the  chair 
and  came  back  to  the  middle  of  the  room. 

"Oh,  but  I  wisht  he  wasn't  dead!"  he  cried.  The  flood 
broke  and  Billy  screamed  in  desperation. 

Out  of  the  night  a  soft,  warm  young  figure  flashed 
through  the  door  and  with  a  swoop  caught  him  in  her 
arms.  She  dropped  into  a  chair,  nestled  him  closely,  and 
drooped  her  fragrant  brown  head  over  his  little  bullet- 
eyed  red  one,  and  rocked  softly  as  she  crooned  over  him  — 

"Billy,  boy,  where  have  you  been? 

Oh,  I  have  been  to  seek  a  wife, 

She's  the  joy  of  my  life, 
But  then  she's  a  young  thing  and  she  can't  leave  her  mammy!" 

Billy  gripped  her  with  a  death  grip.  Elnora  wiped  his 
eyes,  kissed  his  face,  swayed  and  sang. 


146  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Why  aren't  you  asleep?"  she  asked  at  last. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Billy.  "I  tried.  I  tried  awful 
hard  'cos  I  thought  he  wanted  me  to,  but  it  ist  wouldn't 
come.     Please  tell  her  I  tried."     He  appealed  to  Margaret. 

"He  did  try  to  go  to  sleep,"  admitted  Margaret. 

"Maybe  he  can't  sleep  in  his  clothes,"  suggested  Elnora. 
"Haven't  you  an  old  dressing  sacque?  I  could  roll  the 
sleeves." 

Margaret  got  an  old  sacque,  and  Elnora  put  it  on  Billy. 
Then  she  brought  a  basin  of  water  and  bathed  his  face 
and  head.     She  gathered  him  up  and  began  to  rock  again. 

"Have  you  got  a  pa?"  asked  Billy. 

"No,"  said  Elnora. 

"Is  he  dead  like  mine?" 

"Yes," 

"Did  it  hurt  him  to  die?" 

"I  don't  know." 

Billy  was  wide  awake  again.  "It  didn't  hurt  my  pa," 
lie  boasted;  "he  ist  died  while  he  was  asleep.  He  didn't 
even  know  it  was  coming." 

"I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  Elnora,  pressing  the  little 
head  against  her  breast  again. 

Billy  escaped  her  hand  and  sat  up.  "I  guess  I  won't 
go  to  sleep,"  he  said.  "It  might  'come  softly'  and  get 
me. 

"It  won't  get  you,  Billy,"  said  Elnora,  rocking  and 
singing  between  sentences.  "It  don't  get  little  boys. 
It  just  takes  big  people  who  are  sick." 

"Was  my  pa  sick?" 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       147 

"Yes,"  said  Elnora.  "He  had  a  dreadful  sickness  in- 
side him  that  burned,  and  made  him  drink  things.  That 
was  why  he  would  forget  his  little  boys  and  girl.  If  he 
had  been  well,  he  would  have  gotten  you  good  things  to 
eat,  clean  clothes,  and  had  the  most  fun  with  you." 

Billy  leaned  against  her  and  closed  his  eyes,  and  Elnora 
rocked  hopefully. 

"If  I  was  dead  would  you  cry?"    He  was  up  again. 

"Yes,  I  would,"  said  Elnora,  gripping  him  closer  until 
Billy  almost  squealed  with  the  embrace. 

"Do  you  love  me  tight  as  that?"  he  questioned  bliss- 
fully. 

"Yes,  bushels  and  bushels,"  said  Elnora.  "Better 
than  any  little  boy  in  the  whole  world." 

Billy  looked  at  Margaret.  "She  don't!"  he  said. 
"She'd  be  glad  if  it  would  get  me  'softly,'  right  now. 
She  don't  want  me  here  't  all." 

Elnora  smothered  his  face  against  her  breast  and  rocked. 

"You  love  me,  don't  you?" 

"I  will,  if  you  will  go  to  sleep." 

"Every  single  day  you  will  give  me  your  dinner  for  the 
bologna,  won't  you,"  said  Billy. 

"Yes,  I  will,"  replied  Elnora.  "But  you  will  have  as 
good  lunch  as  I  do  after  this.  You  will  have  milk,  eggs, 
chicken,  all  kinds  of  good  things,  little  pies,  and  cakes, 
maybe." 

Billy  shook  his  head.  "I  am  going  back  home  soon 
as  it  is  light,"  he  said;  "she  don't  want  me.  She  thinks 
I'm  a  bad  boy.     She's  going  to  whip  me  —  if  he  lets  her. 


148  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

She  said  so.  I  heard  her.  Oh,  I  wish  he  hadn't  died !  I 
want  to  go  home."     Billy  shrieked  again. 

Mrs.  Comstock  had  started  to  walk  slowly  and  meet 
Elnora.  The  girl  had  been  so  late  that  her  mother 
reached  the  Sinton  gate  and  came  up  the  path  until  the 
picture  inside  became  visible.  Elnora  had  told  her  about 
Sinton  taking  Billy  home.  Mrs.  Comstock  had  some 
curiosity  to  see  how  Margaret  bore  the  unexpected  ad- 
dition to  her  family.  Billy's  voice,  raised  with  excitement, 
was  plainly  audible.  She  could  see  Elnora  holding  him, 
and  hear  his  excited  wail.  Sinton's  face  was  drawn  and 
haggard,  and  Margaret's  set  and  defiant.  A  very  imp  of 
perversity  entered  the  breast  of  Mrs.  Comstock  and  danced 
there. 

"Hoity,  toity!"  she  said  as  she  suddenly  appeared 
in  the  door.  "  Blest  if  I  ever  heard  a  man  making  sounds 
like  that  before!" 

Billy  ceased  suddenly.  Mrs.  Comstock  was  tall,  an- 
gular, and  her  hair  was  prematurely  white,  for  she  was 
only  thirty-six,  though  she  looked  fifty.  But  there  was 
an  expression  on  her  usually  cold  face  that  was  attractive 
just  then,  and  Billy  was  in  search  of  attractions. 

"Have  I  stayed  too  late,  mother?"  asked  Elnora  anx- 
iously. "I  truly  intended  to  come  straight  back,  but  I 
thought  I  could  get  Billy  to  sleep  first.  Everything  is 
strange,  and  he's  so  nervous." 

"Is  that  your  ma?"  demanded  Billy. 

"Yes." 

"Does  she  love  you?" 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       149 

"Of  course!" 

"My  mother  didn't  love  me,"  said  Billy.  "She  went 
away  and  left  me,  and  never  came  back.  She  don't  care 
what  happens  to  me.  You  wouldn't  go  away  and  leave 
your  little  girl,  would  you?"  questioned  Billy  of  Mrs. 
Comstock. 

"No,"  said  Katharine  Comstock,  "and  I  wouldn't 
leave  a  little  boy,  either." 

Billy  was  half  off  Elnora's  knees. 

"Do  you  like  boys?"  he  questioned. 

"If  there  is  anything  I  love  it  is  a  boy,"  said  Mrs.  Com- 
stock assuringly.     Billy  was  on  the  floor. 

"Do  you  like  dogs?" 

"Yes.  Almost  as  well  as  boys.  I  am  going  to  buy  a 
dog  just  as  soon  as  I  can  find  a  good  one." 

Billy  swept  toward  her  with  a  whoop. 

"Do  you  want  a  boy?"  he  shouted. 

Katherine  Comstock  stretched  out  her  arms,  and  gath- 
ered him  in. 

"Of  course,  I  want  a  boy!"  she  rejoiced. 

"Maybe  you'd  like  to  have  me?"  offered  Billy. 

"  Sure  I  would,"  triumphed  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Any  one 
would  like  to  have  you.     You  are  just  a  real  boy,  Billy." 

"Will  you  take  Snap?" 

"I'd  like  to  have  Snap  almost  as  well  as  you." 

"Mother!"  breathed  Elnora  imploringly.  "Don't! 
Oh,  don't!     He  thinks  you  mean  it!" 

"And  so  I  do  mean  it,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I'll 
take  him  in  a  jiffy.     I  throw  away  enough  to  feed  a  little 


ISO  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

tyke  like  him  every  day.  His  chatter  would  be  great 
company  while  you  are  gone.  Blood  soon  can  be  purified 
with  right  food  and  baths,  and  as  for  Snap,  I  meant  to  get 
a  bulldog,  but  possibly  Snap  will  serve  just  as  well.  All 
I  ask  of  a  dog  is  to  bark  at  the  right  time.  I'll  do  the  rest. 
Would  you  like  to  come  and  be  my  boy,  Billy?" 

Billy  leaned  against  Mrs.  Comstock,  reached  his  arms 
around  her  neck  and  gripped  her  with  all  his  puny  might. 
"You  can  whip  me  all  you  want  to,"  he  said.  "I  won't 
make  a  sound." 

Mrs.  Comstock  held  him  closely  and  her  hard  face  was 
softening,  of  that  there  could  not  be  a  doubt. 

"Now,  why  would  any  one  whip  a  nice  little  boy  like 
you?"  she  asked  wonderingly. 

"She"  —  Billy  from  his  refuge  waved  toward  Mar- 
garet —  "she  was  going  to  whip  me  'cause  her  cats  fought 
when  I  tied  their  tails  together  and  hung  them  over  the 
line  to  dry.     How  did  I  know  her  old  cats  would  fight?" 

Mrs.  Comstock  began  to  laugh  suddenly,  and  try  as 
she  would  she  could  not  stop  as  soon  as  she  desired. 
Billy  studied  her. 

"Have  you  got  turkeys?"  he  demanded. 

"Yes,  flocks  of  them,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock,  vainly 
struggling  to  suppress  her  mirth,  and  settle  her  face  in  its 
accustomed  lines. 

"Are  their  tails  fast?"  demanded  Billy. 

"Why,  I  think  so,"  marvelled  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"Hers  ain't!"  said  Billy  with  the  wave  toward  Mar- 
garet that  was  becoming  familiar.     "Her  turkey  pulled, 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       iji 

'  and  its  tail  corned  right  off.  She's  going  to  whip  me  if 
he  lets  her.  I  didn't  know  the  turkey  would  pull.  I 
didn't  know  its  tail  would  come  off.  I  won't  ever  touch 
one  again,  will  I?" 

"Of  course  you  won't,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "And 
what's  more,  I  don't  care  if  you  do!  I'd  rather  have  a 
fine  little  man  like  you  than  all  the  turkeys  in  the  coun- 
try. Let  them  lose  their  old  tails  if  they  want  to,  and  let 
the  cats  fight.  Cats  and  turkeys  don't  compare  with 
boys,  who  are  going  to  be  fine  big  men  some  of  these 
days." 

Then  Billy  and  Mrs.  Comstock  hugged  each  other  rap- 
turously, and  their  audience  stared  in  silent  amazement. 

"You  like  boys!"  exulted  Billy,  and  his  head  dropped 
against  Mrs.  Comstock  in  unspeakable  content. 

"Yes,  and  if  I  don't  have  to  carry  you  the  whole  way 
home,  we  must  start  right  now,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"You  are  going  to  be  asleep  before  you  know  it." 

Billy  opened  his  eyes  and  braced  himself.  "I  can 
walk,"  he  said  proudly. 

"All  right,  we  must  start.  Come,  Elnora!  Good 
night,  folks!"  Mrs.  Comstock  set  Billy  on  the  floor,  and 
arose  gripping  his  hand.  "You  take  the  other  side, 
Elnora,  and  we  will  help  him  as  much  as  we  can,"  she  said. 

Elnora  stared  piteously  at  Margaret,  then  at  Wesley, 
and  arose  in  white-faced  bewilderment. 

"Billy,  are  you  going  to  leave  without  even  saying 
good-bye  to  me?"  asked  Sinton,  with  a  great  gulp  in  his 
throat. 


152  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Billy  held  tight  to  Mrs.  Comstock  and  Elnora. 

"Good-bye!"  he  said  casually.  "I'll  come  and  see  you 
some  time." 

Wesley  Sinton  gave  a  smothered  sob,  and  strode  from 
the  room. 

Mrs.  Comstock  started  for  the  door,  dragging  at  Billy 
as  Elnora  pulled  back,  but  Mrs.  Sinton  was  before  them, 
her  eyes  flashing. 

"Kate  Comstock,  you  think  you  are  mighty  smart, 
don't  you?"  she  cried. 

"I  ain't  in  the  lunatic  asylum,  where  you  belong,  any- 
way," said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I  am  smart  enough  to  tell 
a  dandy  boy  when  I  see  him,  and  I'm  good  and  glad  to  get 
him.     I'll  love  to  have  him!" 

"Well,  you  won't  have  him!"  exclaimed  Margaret  Sin- 
ton. "That  boy  is  Wesley's!  He  got  him,  and  brought 
him  here.  You  can't  come  in  and  take  him  like  that! 
Let  go  of  him!" 

"Not  much,  I  won't!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Leave 
the  poor  sick  little  soul  here  for  you  to  beat  because  he 
didn't  know  just  how  to  handle  things!  Of  course,  he'll 
make  mistakes.  He's  got  to  have  a  lot  of  teaching,  but 
not  the  kind  he'll  get  from  you!     Clear  out  of  my  way!" 

"You  let  go  of  our  boy,"  ordered  Margaret. 

"Why?  Do  you  want  to  whip  him  before  he  can  go  to 
sleep?"  jeered  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"No,  I  don't!"  said  Margaret.  "He's  Wesley's,  and 
nobody  shall  touch  him.     Wesley!" 

Wesley  Sinton  appeared  behind  Margaret  in  the  door- 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  AND  MARGARET       153 

way,  and  she  turned  to  him.     "Make  Kate  Comstock 
let  go  of  our  boy!"  she  demanded. 

"Billy,  she  wants  you  now,"  said  Wesley  Sinton. 
*'  She  won't  whip  you,  and  she  won't  let  any  one  else.  You 
can  have  stacks  of  good  things  to  eat,  ride  in  the  carriage, 
and  have  a  great  time.     Won't  you  stay  with  us  ? " 

Billy  drew  away  from  Mrs.  Comstock  and  Elnora. 

He  faced  Margaret,  his  eyes  shrewd  with  unchildish 
wisdom.  Necessity  had  taught  him  to  strike  the  hot  iron, 
to  drive  the  hard  bargain. 

"Can  I  have  Snap  to  live  here  always?"  he  demanded. 

"Yes,  you  can  have  all  the  dogs  you  want,"  said  Mar- 
garet Sinton. 

"Can  I  sleep  close  enough  so's  I  can  touch  you?" 

"Yes,  you  can  move  your  lounge  up  so  that  you  can 
hold  my  hand,"  said  Margaret. 

"Do  you  love  me  now?"  questioned  Billy. 

"I'll  try  to  love  you  if  you  are  a  good  boy,"  said  Margaret. 

"Then  I  guess  I'll  stay,"  said  Billy  walking  over  to  her. 

Out  in  the  night  Elnora  and  her  mother  went  down  the 
road  in  the  moonlight,  and  every  few  rods  Mrs.  Com- 
stock laughed  aloud. 

"Mother,  I  don't  understand  you,"  sobbed  Elnora. 

"Well,  maybe  when  you  have  gone  to  high  school  longer 
you  will,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Anyway,  you  saw  me 
bring  Mag  Sinton  to  her  senses,  didn't  you?" 

"Yes,  I  did,"  answered  Elnora,  "but  I  thought  you 
were  in  earnest.  So  did  Billy,  and  Uncle  Wesley,  and 
Aunt  Margaret." 


154  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Well,  wasn't  I?"  inquired  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"But  you  just  said  you  brought  Aunt  Margaret  to!" 

"Well,  didn't  I?" 

"I  don't  understand  you." 

"That's  the  reason  I  am  recommending  more  school- 
ing!" 

Elnora  took  her  candle  and  went  to  bed.  Mrs.  Com- 
stock was  feeling  too  good  to  sleep.  Twice  of  late  she 
really  had  enjoyed  herself  for  the  first  in  sixteen  years, 
and  a  sort  of  greediness  for  more  of  the  same  feeling  crept 
into  her  blood  like  intoxication.  As  she  sat  brooding 
alone  she  knew  the  truth.  She  would  have  loved  to  take 
Billy.  She  would  not  have  minded  his  mischief,  his  chat- 
ter, or  his  dog.  He  would  have  meant  a  sort  of  salvation 
from  herself  that  she  greatly  needed.  She  was  even  sincere 
about  the  dog.  She  meant  to  tell  Sinton  to  buy  her  one 
at  the  very  first  opportunity.  Her  last  thought  was  of 
Billy.  She  chuckled  softly,  for  she  was  not  saintly,  and 
now  she  knew  what  she  could  do  that  would  fill  her  soul 
with  grim  satisfaction. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Wherein  the   Limberlost  Tempts  Elnora,  and 
Billy  Buries  His  Father 

Immediately  after  dinner  on  Sunday  Wesley  Sinton 
stopped  at  the  Comstock  gate  to  ask  if  Elnora  wanted  to 
go  to  town  with  them.  Billy  sat  beside  him  and  he  did 
not  look  as  if  he.  were  on  his  way  to  a  funeral.  Elnora 
said  she  had  to  study  and  could  not  go,  but  she  suggested 
that  her  mother  take  her  place.  Mrs.  Comstock  put  on 
her  hat  and  went  at  once,  which  surprised  Elnora.  She 
did  not  know  that  her  mother  was  anxious  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  speak  with  Sinton  alone.  Elnora  knew  why 
she  was  repeatedly  cautioned  not  to  leave  their  land;  if 
she  went  specimen  hunting,  to  remain  along  the  roads,  or 
at  least  not  to  enter  the  swamp. 

She  studied  two  hours  and  was  several  lessons  ahead 
of  her  classes.  There  was  no  use  to  go  farther.  She 
would  take  a  walk  and  see  if  she  could  gather  any  cater- 
pillars or  find  any  freshly  spun  cocoons.  She  searched 
the  bushes  and  low  trees  behind  the  garden  and  all  about 
the  edge  of  the  woods  on  their  land,  and  having  little 
success,  at  last  came  out  to  the  road.  Almost  the  first 
thorn  bush  she  examined  yielded  a  Polyphemus  cocoon. 

155 


156  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Elnora  lifted  her  head  with  the  instinct  of  a  hunter  on  the 
chase,  and  began  work.  She  reached  the  swamp  before 
she  knew  it,  carrying  five  fine  cocoons  of  different  species 
as  her  reward.  She  pushed  back  her  hair  and  gazed  around 
longingly.  A  few  rods  inside  she  thought  she  saw  cocoons 
on  a  bush,  to  which  she  went,  and  found  several.  Sense 
of  caution  was  rapidly  vanishing.  She  was  in  a  fair  way  to 
forget  everything  and  plunge  into  the  swamp  when  she 
thought  she  heard  footsteps  coming  down  the  trail.  She 
went  back,  and  came  out  almost  facing  Pete  Corson. 

That  ended  her  difficulty.  She  had  known  him  since 
childhood.  When  she  sat  on  the  front  bench  of  the  Brush- 
wood schoolhouse,  Pete  had  been  one  of  the  big  boys  at 
the  back  of  the  room.  He  had  been  rough  and  wild,  but 
she  never  had  been  afraid  of  him,  and  often  he  had  given 
her  pretty  things  from  the  swamp. 

"What  luck!"  she  cried.  "I  promised  mother  I  would 
not  go  inside  the  swamp  alone,  and  will  you  look  at  the 
cocoons  I've  found!  There  are  more  just  screaming  for 
me  to  come  get  them,  because  the  leaves  will  fall  with  the 
first  frost,  and  then  the  jays  and  crows  will  begin  to  tear 
them  open.  I  haven't  much  time,  since  I'm  going  to 
school.  You  will  go  with  me,  Pete!  Please  say  yes! 
Just  a  little  way!" 

"What  are  those  things?"  asked  the  man,  his  keen  black 
eyes  fast  upon  her. 

"They  are  the  cases  these  big  caterpillars  spin  for  win- 
ter, and  in  the  spring  they  come  out  great  night  moths, 
and  I  can  sell  them.     Oh,  Pete,  I  can  sell  them  for  enough 


THE  LIMBERLOST  TEMPTS  ELNORA     157 

to  take  me  through  high  school  and  dress  me  so  like  the 
rest  that  I  don't  look  different,  and  if  I  have  very  good 
luck  I  can  save  some  for  college.  Pete,  please  go  with 
me. 

"Why  don't  you  go  like  you  always  have?" 

"Well,  the  truth  is,  I  had  a  little  scare,"  said  Elnora. 
"I  never  did  mean  to  go  alone;  sometimes  I  sort  of  wan- 
dered inside  farther  than  I  intended,  chasing  things. 
You  know  Duncan  gave  me  Freckles's  books,  and  I  have 
been  gathering  moths  like  he  did.  Lately  I  found  I  could 
sell  them.  If  I  can  make  a  complete  collection  I  can 
get  three  hundred  dollars  for  it.  Three  such  collections 
would  take  me  almost  through  college,  and  I've  four  years 
in  the  high  school  yet.  That's  a  long  time.  I  might  get 
them." 

"Can  every  kind  there  is  be  found  here?" 

"No,  not  all  of  them,  but  when  I  get  more  than  I  need 
of  one  kind  I  can  trade  them  with  collectors  farther  north 
and  west,  so  I  can  complete  sets.  It's  the  only  way  I  see 
to  earn  the  money.  Look  what  I  have  already.  Big 
gray  Cecropias  come  from  this  kind;  brown  Polyphemus 
from  that,  and  green  Lunas  from  these.  You  aren't  work- 
ing on  Sunday.     Go  with  me  just  an  hour,  Pete!" 

The  man  looked  at  her  narrowly.  She  was  young, 
wholesome,  and  beautiful.  She  was  innocent,  intensely 
in  earnest,  and  she  needed  the  money,  he  knew  that. 

"You  didn't  tell  me  what  scared  you,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  I  thought  I  did!  Why,  you  know,  I  had  Frec- 
kles's box  packed  full  of  moths  and  specimens,  and  one 


158  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

evening  I  sold  some  to  the  Bird  Woman.  Next  morning 
I  found  a  note  telling  me  it  wasn't  safe  to  go  inside  the 
swamp.  That  sort  of  scared  me.  I  think  I'll  go  alone 
rather  than  miss  the  chance,  but  I'd  be  so  happy  if  you 
would  take  care  of  me.  Then  I  could  go  anywhere  I 
chose,  because  if  I  mired  you  could  pull  me  out.  You 
will  take  care  of  me,  Pete?" 
That  was  the  finishing  stroke. 

"Yes,  I'll  take  care  of  you,"  promised  Pete  Corson. 
"Goody!"  said  Elnora.  "Let's  start  quick!  And 
Pete,  you  look  at  these  closely,  and  when  you  are  hunting 
or  going  along  the  road,  if  one  dangles  under  your  nose, 
you  cut  off  the  little  twig  and  save  it  for  me,  will  you?" 
"Yes,  I'll  save  you  all  I  see,"  promised  Pete.  He 
pushed  back  his  hat  and  followed  Elnora.  She  plunged 
fearlessly  through  bushes,  over  underbrush,  and  across 
dead  logs.  One  minute  she  was  crying  wildly  that  here 
was  a  big  one,  the  next  she  was  reaching  for  a  limb  above 
her  head,  or  on  her  knees  overturning  dead  leaves  under  a 
hickory  or  oak  tree,  or  pushing  aside  black  muck  with  her 
bare  hands  as  she  searched  for  buried  pupae  cases.  For 
the  first  hour  Pete  bent  back  bushes  and  followed,  carry- 
ing what  Elnora  discovered.     Then  he  found  one. 

"Is  this  the  kind  of  thing  you  are  looking  for?"  he 
asked,  bashfully,  as  he  presented  a  wild  cherry  twig. 

"Oh,  Pete,  that's  a  Promethea!     I  didn't  even  hope  to 
find  one." 

"What's  the  bird  like?"  asked  Pete. 

"Almost  black  wings,"   said   Elnora,   "with  clay-col- 


THE  LIMBERLOST  TEMPTS  ELNORA     159 

oured  edges,  and  the  most  wonderful  wine-coloured  flush 
over  the  under  side  if  it's  a  male,  and  stronger  wine  above 
and  below  if  it's  a  female.     Oh,  aren't  I  happy!" 

"How  would  it  do  to  make  what  you  have  into  a  bunch 
that  we  could  leave  here  and  come  back  for  them?" 

"That  would  be  all  right." 

Relieved  of  his  load  Pete  began  work.  First,  he  nar- 
rowly examined  the  cocoons  Elnora  had  found.  He 
questioned  her  as  to  what  other  kinds  would  be  like.  He 
began  to  use  the  eyes  of  a  trained  woodman  and  hunter 
in  her  behalf.  He  saw  several  so  easily,  and  moved 
through  the  forest  so  softly,  that  Elnora  forgot  the  moths 
in  watching  him.  Presently  she  was  carrying  the  speci- 
mens, and  he  was  making  the  trips  of  investigation  to  see 
which  was  a  cocoon  and  which  a  curled  leaf,  or  he  was 
down  on  his  knees  digging  around  stumps.  As  he  worked 
he  kept  asking  questions.  What  kind  of  logs  were  best  to 
look  beside;  what  trees  were  pupae  cases  most  likely  to  be 
under;  on  what  bushes  did  caterpillars  spin  most  fre- 
quently? Time  passed,  as  it  always  does  when  one's  occu- 
pation is  absorbing. 

When  the  Sintons  had  taken  Mrs.  Comstock  home,  they 
stopped  to  see  if  Elnora  was  safe.  She  was  not  at  home, 
and  they  had  not  seen  her  along  the  way.  Mrs.  Com- 
stock called  about  the  edge  of  the  woods  and  received  no 
reply.  Then  Sinton  turned  and  drove  back  to  the  Limber- 
lost.  He  left  Margaret  and  Mrs.  Comstock  holding  the 
team  and  entertaining  Billy,  and  entered  the  swamp. 

Elnora  and  Pete  had  left  a  wide  trail  behind  them. 


i6o  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Before  Sinton  had  thought  of  calling  he  heard  voices 
and  approached  with  some  caution.  Soon  he  saw  Elnora, 
her  flushed  face  beaming  as  she  bent  with  an  armload  of 
twigs  and  branches  and  talked  to  a  kneeling  man. 

"Now  go  cautiously!"  she  was  saying.  "I  am  just 
sure  we  will  find  an  Imperialis  here.  It's  their  very  kind 
of  a  place.  There!  What  did  I  tell  you!  Isn't  that 
splendid?     Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  came  with  me!" 

Sinton  stood  and  stared  in  speechless  astonishment,  for 
the  man  had  risen,  brushed  the  dirt  from  his  hands,  and 
held  out  to  Elnora  a  small  shining  dark  pupa  case.  As 
his  face  swung  into  view  Sinton  almost  cried  out,  for  he 
was  the  one  man  of  all  others  Wesley  knew  with  whom  he 
most  feared  for  Elnora's  safety.  She  had  him  on  his  knees 
digging  pupae  cases  for  her  from  the  loose  swamp  loam. 

"Elnora!"  called  Sinton.     "Elnora!" 

"Oh,  Uncle  Wesley!"  cried  the  girl.  "See  what  luck 
we've  had!  I  know  we  have  a  dozen  and  a  half  cocoons 
and  we  have  three  pupae  cases.  It's  much  harder  to  get 
the  cases  because  you  have  to  dig  for  them,  and  you  can't 
see  where  to  look.  But  Pete  is  fine  at  it!  He's  found 
three,  and  he  says  he  will  keep  watch  along  the  roads, 
and  through  the  woods  as  he  hunts.  Isn't  that  splendid 
of  him?  Uncle  Wesley,  there  is  a  college  over  there  on 
the  western  edge  of  the  swamp.  Look  closely,  and  you 
can  see  the  great  dome  up  among  the  clouds." 

"  I  should  say  you  have  had  luck,"  said  Sinton,  striving 
to  make  his  voice  natural.  "But  I  thought  you  were  not 
coming  to  the  swamp?" 


THE  LIMBERLOST  TEMPTS  ELNORA     161 

"Well,  I  wasn't,"  said  Elnora,  "but  I  couldn't  find 
many  anywhere  else,  honest,  I  couldn't,  and  just  as  soon 
as  I  came  to  the  edge  I  began  to  see  them  here.  I  kept 
my  promise.  I  didn't  come  in  alone.  Pete  came  with 
me.  He's  so  strong,  he  isn't  afraid  of  anything,  and  he's 
perfectly  splendid  to  locate  cocoons!  He's  found  half  of 
these.     Come  on,  Pete,  it's  getting  dark  now,  and  we  must 

go- 

They  started  for  the  trail,  Pete  carrying  the  cocoons. 

He  left  them  at  the  case,  while  Elnora  and  Sinton  went 

on  to  the  carriage  together. 

"Elnora  Comstock,  what  does  this  mean?"  demanded 
her  mother. 

"  It's  all  right,  one  of  the  neighbours  was  with  her,  and 
she  got  several  dollars'  worth  of  stuff,"  interposed  Sinton. 

"You  oughter  seen  my  pa,"  shouted  Billy.  "He  was 
ist  all  whited  out,  and  he  laid  as  still  as  anything.  They 
put  him  away  deep  in  the  ground." 

"Billy!"  breathed  Margaret  in  a  prolonged  groan. 

"Jimmy  and  Belle  are  going  to  be  together  in  a  nice 
place.  They  are  coming  to  see  me,  and  Snap  is  right 
down  here  by  the  wheel.  Here,  Snap!  My,  but  he'll 
be  tickled  to  get  something  to  eat!  He's  'most  twisted 
as  me.  They  get  new  clothes,  and  all  they  want  to  eat, 
too,  but  they'll  miss  me.  They  couldn't  have  got  along 
without  me.  I  took  care  of  them.  I  had  a  lot  of  things 
give  to  me  'cause  I  was  the  littlest,  and  I  always  divided 
with  them.     But  they  won't  need  me  now." 

When   she   left   the   carriage   Mrs.   Comstock  gravely 


i62  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

shook  hands  with  Billy.  "Remember,"  she  said  to  him, 
"I  love  boys,  and  I  love  dogs.  Whenever  you  don't  have 
a  good  time  up  there,  take  your  dog  and  come  right  down 
and  be  my  little  boy.  We  will  just  have  loads  of  fun. 
You  should  hear  the  whistles  I  can  make.  If  you  aren't 
treated  right  you  come  straight  to  me." 

Billy  wagged  his  head  sagely.  "You  ist  bet  I  will!" 
he  said. 

"Mother  how  could  you?"  asked  Elnora  as  they  walked 
up  the  path. 

"How  could  I,  missy?  You  better  ask  how  couldn't 
I?  I  just  couldn't!  Not  for  enough  to  pay  my  road  tax ! 
Not  for  enough  to  pay  the  road  tax,  and  the  dredge  tax, 
too!" 

"Aunt  Margaret  always  has  been  lovely  to  me,  and  I 
don't  think  it's  fair  to  worry  her." 

"I  choose  to  be  lovely  to  Billy,  and  let  her  sweat  out 
her  own  worries  just  as  she  has  me,  these  sixteen  years. 
There  is  nothing  in  all  this  world  so  good  for  people  as 
getting  a  dose  of  their  own  medicine.  The  difference  is 
that  I  am  honest.  I  just  say  in  plain  English,  'if  they 
don't  treat  you  right,  come  to  me.'  They  have  only  said 
it  in  actions  and  inferences.  I  want  to  teach  Mag  Sinton 
how  her  own  doses  taste,  but  she  begins  to  sputter  before 
I  fairly  get  the  spoon  to  her  lips.     Just  you  wait!" 

"When  I  think  what  I  owe  her "  began  Elnora. 

"Well,  thank  goodness,  I  don't  owe  her  anything,  and 
so  I'm  perfectly  free  to  do  what  I  choose.  Come  on,  and 
help  me  get  supper.     I'm  hungry  as  Billy!" 


THE  LIMBERLOST  TEMPTS  ELNORA     163 

Margaret  Sinton  rocked  slowly  back  and  forth  in  her 
chair.  On  her  breast  lay  Billy's  red  head;  one  hand 
clutched  her  dress  front  with  spasmodic  grip,  even  after  he 
was  unconscious. 

"You  mustn't  begin  that,  Margaret,"  said  Sinton. 
"He's  too  heavy.  And  it's  bad  for  him.  He's  better  off 
to  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep  alone." 

"He's  very  light,  Wesley.  He  jumps  and  quivers  so. 
He  has  to  be  stronger  than  he  is  now  before  he  will  sleep 
soundly." 


CHAPTER  IX 

Wherein   Elnora   Discovers    a   Violin,    and    Billy 
Disciplines  Margaret 

Elnora  missed  the  little  figure  at  the  bridge  the  next 
morning.  She  slowly  walked  up  the  street  and  turned  in 
at  the  wide  entrance  to  the  school  grounds.  She  scarcely 
could  comprehend  that  only  a  week  ago  she  had  gone 
there  friendless,  alone,  and  so  sick  at  heart  that  she  was 
physically  ill.  To-day  she  had  decent  clothing,  books, 
friends,  and  her  mind  was  at  ease  to  work  on  her  studies. 

As  she  approached  home  that  night  the  girl  paused  in 
amazement.  Her  mother  had  company,  and  she  was 
laughing.  Elnora  entered  the  kitchen  softly  and  peeped 
into  the  sitting  room.  Mrs.  Comstock  sat  in  her  chair 
holding  a  book  and  every  few  seconds  a  soft  chuckle  broke 
into  a  real  laugh.  Mark  Twain  was  doing  his  work; 
while  Mrs.  Comstock  was  not  lacking  in  a  sense  of  hu- 
mour. Elnora  entered  the  room  before  her  mother  saw  her. 
Mrs.  Comstock  looked  up  with  flushed  face. 

"Where  did  you  get  this?"  she  demanded. 

"I  bought  it,"  said  Elnora. 

"Bought  it!     With  all  the  taxes  due!" 

"I  paid  for  it  out  of  my  Indian  money,  mother,"  said 

164 


ELNORA  DISCOVERS  A  VIOLIN  165 

Elnora.  "I  couldn't  bear  to  spend  so  much  on  myself 
and  nothing  at  all  on  you.  I  was  afraid  to  buy  the  dress 
I  should  have  liked  to,  and  I  thought  the  book  would  be 
company,  while  I  was  gone.  I  haven't  read  it,  but  I  do 
hope  it's  good." 

"  Good !  It's  the  biggest  piece  of  foolishness  I  have  read 
in  all  my  life.  I've  laughed  all  day,  ever  since  I  found  it. 
I  had  a  notion  to  go  out  and  read  some  of  it  to  the  cows 
and  see  if  they  wouldn't  laugh." 

"  If  it  made  you  laugh,  it's  a  wise  book,"  said  Elnora. 

"Wise!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "You  can  stake  your 
life  it's  a  wise  book.  It  takes  the  smartest  man  there  is  to 
do  this  kind  of  fooling,"  and  she  began  laughing  again. 

Elnora,  highly  satisfied  with  her  purchase,  went  to  her 
room  and  put  on  her  working  clothes.  Thereafter  she 
made  a  point  of  getting  a  book  that  she  thought  would 
interest  her  mother,  from  the  library  every  week,  and 
leaving  it  on  the  sitting  room  table.  Every  night  she 
carried  home  at  least  two  school  books  and  studied  until 
she  had  mastered  the  points  of  each  lesson.  She  did  her 
share  of  the  work  faithfully,  and  every  available  minute 
she  was  in  the  fields  searching  for  cocoons,  for  the  moths 
promised  to  become  her  best  source  of  income. 

She  gathered  large  baskets  of  nests,  flowers,  mosses, 
insects,  and  all  sorts  of  natural  history  specimens  and  sold 
them  to  the  grade  teachers.  At  first  she  tried  to  tell  these 
instructors  what  to  teach  their  pupils  about  the  speci- 
mens; but  recognizing  how  much  more  she  knew  than  they, 
one  after  another  begged  her  to  study  at  home,  and  use 


166  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

her  spare  hours  in  school  to  exhibit  and  explain  nature 
subjects  to  their  pupils.  Elnora  loved  the  work,  and  she 
needed  the  money,  for  every  few  days  some  matter  of 
expense  arose  that  she  had  not  expected. 

From  the  first  week  she  had  been  received  and  invited 
with  the  crowd  of  girls  in  her  class,  and  it  was  their  cus- 
tom in  passing  through  the  business  part  of  the  city  to  stop 
at  the  confectioners'  and  take  turns  in  treating  to  ex- 
pensive candies,  ice-cream  sodas,  hot  chocolate,  or  what- 
ever they  fancied.  When  first  Elnora  was  asked  she 
accepted  without  understanding.  The  second  time  she 
went  because  she  seldom  had  tasted  these  things,  and 
they  were  so  delicious  she  could  not  resist.  After  that 
she  went  because  she  knew  all  about  it,  and  had  decided 
to  go. 

She  had  spent  a  half-hour  on  the  log  by  the  trail  in  deep 
thought  and  had  arrived  at  her  conclusions.  She  worked 
harder  than  usual  for  the  next  week,  but  she  seemed  to 
thrive  on  work.  It  was  October  and  the  red  leaves  were 
falling  when  her  first  time  came  to  treat.  As  the  crowd 
flocked  down  the  broad  walk  that  night  Elnora  called: 
"Girls,  it's  my  treat  to-night!     Come  on!" 

She  led  the  way  through  the  city  to  the  grocery  they 
patronized  when  they  had  a  small  spread,  and  entering 
came  out  with  a  basket,  which  she  carried  to  the  bridge 
on  her  home  road.  There  she  arranged  the  girls  in  two 
rows  on  the  cement  abutments  and  opening  her  basket 
she  gravely  offered  each  girl  an  exquisite  little  basket  of 
bark,  lined  with  red  leaves,  in  one  end  of  which  nestled  a 


ELNORA  DISCOVERS  A  VIOLIN  167 

juicy  big  red  apple  and  in  the  other  a  spicy  doughnut  not 
an  hour  from  Margaret  Sinton's  frying  basket. 

Another  time  she  offered  big  balls  of  popped  corn  stuck 
together  with  maple  sugar,  and  liberally  sprinkled  with 
beechnut  kernels.  Again  it  was  hickory-nut  kernels 
glazed  with  sugar,  another  time  maple  candy,  and  once  a 
basket  of  warm  pumpkin  pies.  She  never  made  any 
apology,  or  offered  any  excuse.  She  simply  gave  what 
she  could  afford,  and  the  change  was  as  welcome  to  those 
city  girls,  accustomed  to  sodas  and  French  candy,  as  were 
these  same  things  to  Elnora  surfeited  on  popcorn  and  pie. 
In  her  room  was  a  little  slip  containing  a  record  of  the 
number  of  weeks  in  the  school  year,  the  times  it  would  be 
her  turn  to  treat  and  the  dates  on  which  such  occasions 
would  fall,  with  a  number  of  suggestions  by  each.  Once 
the  girls  almost  fought  over  a  basket  lined  with  yellow 
leaves,  and  filled  with  fat,  very  ripe  red  haws.  In  late 
October  there  was  a  riot  over  one  which  was  lined  with 
red  leaves  and  contained  big  fragrant  pawpaws  frost- 
bitten to  a  perfect  degree.  Then  hazel  nuts  were  ripe, 
and  once  they  served.  One  day  Elnora,  at  her  wits'  end, 
explained  to  her  mother  that  the  girls  had  given  her  things 
and  she  wanted  to  treat  them.  Mrs.  Comstock,  with 
characteristic  stubbornness,  had  said  she  would  leave  a 
basket  at  the  grocery  for  her,  but  firmly  declined  to  say 
what  would  be  in  it.  All  day  Elnora  struggled  to  keep 
her  mind  on  her  books.  For  hours  she  wavered  in  tense 
uncertainty.  What  would  her  mother  do?  Should  she 
take  the  girls  to  the  confectioner's  that  night  or  risk  the 


168  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

basket?  Mrs.  Comstock  could  make  delicious  things  to 
eat,  but  would  she? 

As  they  left  the  building  Elnora  made  a  final  rapid 
mental  calculation.  She  could  not  see  her  way  clear  to 
a  decent  treat  for  ten  people  for  less  than  two  dollars, 
and  if  the  basket  was  nice,  then  the  money  would  be 
wasted.  She  decided  to  risk  it.  As  they  went  to  the 
bridge  the  girls  were  betting  on  what  the  treat  would  be, 
and  crowding  near  Elnora  like  spoiled  small  children. 
Elnora  set  down  the  basket. 

"Girls,"  she  said,  "I  don't  know  what  this  is  myself, 
so  all  of  us  are  going  to  be  surprised.     Here  goes!" 

She  lifted  the  cover  and  perfumes  from  the  land  of 
spices  rolled  up.  In  one  end  of  the  basket  lay  ten  enor- 
mous sugar  cakes  the  tops  of  which  had  been  liberally 
dotted  with  circles  cut  from  stick  candy.  The  candy  had 
melted  in  baking  and  made  small  transparent  wells  of 
waxy  sweetness,  and  in  the  centre  of  each  cake  was  a  fat 
turtle  made  from  a  raisin  with  cloves  for  head  and  feet. 
The  remainder  of  the  basket  was  filled  with  big  spiced 
pears  that  could  be  held  by  their  stems  while  they  were 
eaten.  The  girls  shrieked  and  attacked  the  cookies,  and 
of  all  the  treats  Elnora  offered  perhaps  none  was  quite  so 
long  remembered  as  that. 

When  Elnora  took  her  basket,  placed  her  books  in  it, 
and  started  home,  all  the  girls  went  with  her  as  far  as  the 
fence  where  she  crossed  the  field  to  the  swamp.  When 
they  parted  they  kissed  her  good-bye.  Elnora  was  a 
happy  girl  as  she  hurried  home  to  thank  her  mother. 


ELNORA  DISCOVERS  A  VIOLIN  169 

She  was  happy  over  her  books  that  night,  and  happy  all 
the  way  to  school  the  next  morning. 

When  the  music  swelled  from  the  orchestra  her  heart 
almost  broke  with  throbbing  joy.  For  music  always  had 
affected  her  strangely,  and  since  she  had  been  comfort- 
able enough  in  her  surroundings  to  notice  things,  she  had 
listened  to  every  note  to  find  what  it  was  that  literally 
hurt  her  heart,  and  at  last  she  knew.  It  was  the  talking 
of  the  violins.  They  were  human  voices,  and  they  spoke  a 
language  Elnora  understood.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she 
must  climb  up  on  the  stage,  take  the  instruments  from  the 
fingers  of  the  players  and  make  them  speak  what  was  in 
her  heart.  She  fairly  prayed  to  get  hold  of  one,  if  only 
for  a  second. 

That  night  she  said  to  her  mother,  "I  am  perfectly 
crazy  for  a  violin.     I  am  sure  I  could  play  one,  sure  as  I 

live.     Did  any  one "     Elnora  never  completed  that 

sentence. 

"Hush!"  thundered  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Be  quiet! 
Never  mention  those  things  before  me  again  —  never  as 
long  as  you  live!  I  loathe  them!  They  are  a  snare  of  the 
very  devil  himself!  They  were  made  to  lure  men  and 
women  from  their  homes  and  their  honour.  If  ever  I  see 
you  with  one  in  your  fingers  I  will  smash  it  in  pieces." 

Naturally  Elnora  hushed,  but  she  thought  of  nothing 
else  after  she  had  done  justice  to  her  lessons.  At  last 
there  came  a  day  when  for  some  reason  the  leader  of  the 
orchestra  left  his  violin  on  the  grand  piano.  That  morn- 
ing Elnora  made  her  first  mistake  in  algebra.     At  noon, 


170  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

as  soon  as  the  great  building  was  empty,  she  slipped  into 
the  auditorium,  found  the  side  door  which  led  to  the  stage, 
and  going  through  the  musicians'  entrance  she  took  the 
violin.  She  carried  it  back  into  the  little  side  room  where 
the  orchestra  assembled,  closed  all  the  doors,  opened  the 
case  and  lifted  out  the  instrument. 

She  laid  it  on  her  breast,  dropped  her  chin  on  it  and 
drew  the  bow  softly  across  the  strings.  One  after  an- 
other she  tested  the  open  notes.  They  reminded  her  of 
things.  Gradually  her  stroke  ceased  to  tremble  and  she 
drew  the  bow  firmly.  Then  her  fingers  began  to  fall  and 
softly,  slowly  she  searched  up  and  down  those  strings  for 
sounds  she  knew.  Standing  in  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
she  tried  over  and  over.  It  seemed  scarcely  a  minute  be- 
fore the  hall  was  filled  with  the  sound  of  hurrying  feet,  and 
she  was  forced  to  put  away  the  violin  and  go  to  her  classes. 
Of  food  she  never  thought  until  she  noticed  how  heavy  her 
lunch  box  was  on  the  way  home,  so  she  sat  on  the  log  by 
the  swamp  and  remedied  that.  The  next  day  she  prayed 
that  the  violin  would  be  left  again,  but  her  petition  was 
not  answered. 

That  night  when  she  returned  from  the  school  she  made 
an  excuse  to  go  down  to  see  Billy.  He  was  engaged  in 
hulling  walnuts  by  driving  them  through  holes  in  a  board. 
His  hands  were  protected  by  a  pair  of  Margaret's  old 
gloves,  but  he  had  speckled  his  face  generously.  He 
looked  well,  and  greeted  Elnora  hilariously. 

""Me  an'  the  squirrels  are  laying  up  our  winter  stores," 
he  shouted.     "  'Cos  the  cold  is  coming,  an'  the  snow,  an'  if 


ELNORA  DISCOVERS  A  VIOLIN  171 

we  have  any  nuts  we  have  to  fix  'em  now.  But  I'm 
ahead,  'cos  Uncle  Wesley  made  me  this  board,  and  I  can 
hull  a  big  pile  while  the  old  squirrel  does  only  ist  one 
with  his  teeth." 

Elnora  picked  him  up  and  kissed  him.  "Billy,  are 
you  happy?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  and  so's  Snap,"  answered  Billy.  "You  ought 
to  see  him  make  the  dirt  fly  when  he  gets  after  a  chip- 
munk. I  bet  you  he  could  dig  up  pa,  if  anybody  wanted 
him  to." 

"Billy!"  gasped  Margaret  as  she  came  out  to  them. 

"Well,  me  and  Snap  don't  want  him  up,  and  I  bet  you 
Jimmy  and  Belle  don't,  either.  I  ain't  been  twisty  inside 
once  since  I  been  here,  and  I  don't  want  to  go  away,  and 
Snap  don't,  either.     He  told  me  so." 

"Billy!  That  is  not  true.  Dogs  can't  talk,"  cautioned 
Margaret. 

"Then  what  makes  you  open  the  door  when  he  asks 
you  to?"  demanded  Billy. 

"Scratching  and  whining  isn't  talking." 

"Anyway,  it's  the  best  Snap  can  talk,  and  you  get  up 
and  do  things  he  wants  done.  Chipmunks  can  talk  too. 
You  ought  to  hear  them  dam  things  holler  when  Snap 
gets  them!" 

"Billy!  When  you  want  a  cooky  for  supper  and  I 
don't  give  it  to  you  it  is  because  you  said  a  wrong  word." 

"Well,    for "     Billy   clapped    his    hand   over   his. 

mouth  and  stained  his  face  in  swipes.  "Well,  for  —  any- 
thing!    Did  I  go  an'  forget  again!     The  cookies  will  get 


172    .       A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

all  hard,  won't  they?  I  bet  you  ten  dollars  I  don't  say 
that  any  more." 

He  espied  Wesley  and  ran  to  show  him  a  walnut  too  big 
to  go  through  the  holes,  and  Elnora  and  Margaret  went 
into  the  house. 

They  talked  of  many  things  for  a  time  and  then  Elnora 
said  suddenly,  "Aunt  Margaret,  I  like  music." 

"I've  noticed  that  in  you  all  your  life,"  answered  Mar- 
garet. 

"If  dogs  can't  talk,  I  can  make  a  violin  talk,"  announced 
Elnora,  and  then  in  amazement  watched  the  face  of 
Margaret  Sinton  grow  pale. 

"A  violin!"  she  wavered.  "Where  did  you  get  a 
violin?" 

"They  fairly  seemed  to  speak  to  me  in  the  orchestra. 
One  day  the  conductor  left  his  in  the  auditorium,  and  I 
took  it,  and,  Aunt  Margaret,  I  can  make  it  do  the  wind 
in  the  swamp,  the  birds,  and  the  animals.  I  can  make  any 
sound  I  ever  heard  on  it.  If  I  had  a  chance  to  practise  a 
little,  I  could  make  it  do  the  orchestra  music,  too.  I 
don't  know  how  I  know,  but  I  do." 

"Did  —  did  you  ever  mention  it  to  your  mother?" 
faltered  Margaret. 

"Yes,  and  she  seems  prejudiced  against  them.  But, 
oh,  Aunt  Margaret,  I  never  felt  so  about  anything,  not 
even  going  to  school.  I  just  feel  as  if  I'd  die  if  I  didn't 
have  one.  I  could  keep  it  at  school,  and  practise  at 
noon  a  whole  hour.  Soon  they'd  ask  me  to  play  in 
the  orchestra.     I  could  keep  it  in  the  case  and  practise 


ELNORA  DISCOVERS  A  VIOLIN  173 

in  the  woods  in  summer.  You'd  let  me  play  here  over 
Sunday.  Oh,  Aunt  Margaret,  what  does  one  cost? 
Would  it  be  wicked  for  me  to  take  of  my  money  and 
buy  a  very  cheap  one?  I  could  play  on  the  least  expen- 
sive one  made." 

"Oh,  no  you  couldn't!  A  cheap  machine  makes  cheap 
music.  You  got  to  have  a  fine  fiddle  to  make  it  sing. 
But  there's  no  sense  in  your  buying  one.  There  isn't  a 
decent  reason  on  earth  why  you  shouldn't  have  your 
fa " 

"My  father's!"  cried  Elnora.  She  caught  Margaret 
Sinton  by  the  arm.  "My  father  had  a  violin!  He  played 
it.  That's  why  I  can!  Where  is  it?  Is  it  in  our  house? 
Is  it  in  mother's  room?" 

"Elnora!"  panted  Margaret.  "Your  mother  will  kill 
me!     She  always  hated  it." 

"Mother  dearly  loves  music,"  said  Elnora. 

"Not  when  it  took  the  man  she  loved  away  from  her  to 
make  it!" 

"Where  is  my  father's  violin?" 

"Elnora!" 

"I've  never  seen  a  picture  of  my  father.  I've  never 
heard  his  name  mentioned.  I've  never  had  a  scrap  that 
belonged  to  him.  Was  he  my  father,  or  am  I  a  charity 
child  like  Billy,  and  so  she  hates  me?" 

"She's  got  good  pictures  of  him.  Seems  she  just  can't 
bear  to  hear  him  talked  about.  Of  course,  he  was  your 
father.  They  lived  right  there  when  you  were  born. 
She  don't  dislike  you,  she  just  tries  to  make  herself  think 


174  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

she  does.     There's  no  sense  in  the  world  in  you  not  having 
his  violin.     I've  a  great  notion  — — " 

"Has  she  got  it?" 

"No.  I've  never  heard  her  mention  it.  It  was  not  at 
home  when  he  —  when  he  died." 

"Do  you  know  where  it  is?" 

"Yes.  I'm  the  only  person  on  earth  who  does,  except 
the  one  who  has  it." 

"Who  is  that?" 

"  I  can't  tell  you,  but  I  will  see  if  they  have  it  yet,  and 
_get  it  if  I  can.  But  if  your  mother  finds  it  out  she  will 
never  forgive  me." 

"I  can't  help  it,"  said  Elnora.  "I  want  that  violin. 
I  want  it  now." 

"I'll  go  to-morrow,  and  get  it  if  it  has  not  been  de- 
stroyed." 

"Destroyed!  Oh,  Aunt  Margaret!  Would  any  one 
dare?" 

"I  hardly  think  so.  It  was  a  good  instrument.  He 
played  it  like  a  master." 

"Tell  me!"  breathed  Elnora. 

"His  hair  was  red  and  curled  more  than  yours,  and  his 
eyes  were  blue.  He  was  tall,  slim,  and  the  very  imp  of 
mischief.  He  joked  and  teased  all  day  until  he  picked 
up  that  violin.  Then  his  head  bent  over  it,  and  his  eyes 
got  big  and  earnest.  He  seemed  to  listen  as  if  he  first 
heard  the  notes,  and  then  copied  them.  Sometimes  he 
drew  the  bow  trembly,  like  he  wasn't  sure  it  was  right, 
and  he  might  have  to  try  again.     He  could  almost  drive 


ELNORA  DISCOVERS  A  VIOLIN  175 

you  crazy  when  he  wanted  to,  and  no  man  that  ever  lived 
could  make  you  dance  as  he  could.  He  made  it  all  up  as 
he  went.  He  seemed  to  listen  for  his  dancing  music,  too. 
It  appeared  to  come  to  him;  he'd  begin  to  play  and  you 
had  to  keep  time  or  die.  You  couldn't  be  still;  he  loved 
to  sweep  a  crowd  around  with  that  bow  of  his.  I  think 
it  was  the  thing  you  call  inspiration.  I  can  see  him  now, 
his  handsome  head  bent,  his  cheeks  red,  his  eyes  snapping, 
and  that  bow  going  across  the  strings,  and  driving  us  like 
sheep.  He  always  kept  his  body  swinging,  and  he  loved 
to  play.  He  often  slighted  his  work  shamefully,  and  some- 
times her  a  little;  that  is  why  she  hated  it  —  Elnora,  what 
are  you  making  me  do?" 

The  tears  were  rolling  down  Elnora's  cheeks.  "Oh, 
Aunt  Margaret!"  she  sobbed.  "Why  haven't  you  told 
me  about  him  sooner?  I  feel  as  if  you  had  given  my 
father  to  me  living,  so  that  I  could  touch  him.  I  can  see 
him,  too!  Why  didn't  you  ever  tell  me  before?  Go  on! 
Go  on!" 

"I  can't,  Elnora!  I'm  scared  to  death!  I  never  meant 
to  say  anything.  If  I  hadn't  promised  her  not  to  talk  of 
him  to  you  she  wouldn't  have  let  you  come  here.  She 
made  me  swear  it." 

"But  why?  Why?  Was  he  a  shame?  Was  he  dis- 
graced?" 

"Maybe  it  was  that  unjust  feeling  that  took  possession 
of  her  when  she  couldn't  help  him  from  the  swamp.  She 
had  to  blame  some  one,  or  go  crazy,  so  she  took  it  out  on 
you.     At  times,  those  first  ten  years,  if  I  had  talked  to 


176  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

you,  and  you  had  repeated  anything  to  her,  she  might 
have  struck  you  too  hard.  She  was  not  master  of  her- 
self. You  must  be  patient  with  her,  Elnora.  God  only 
knows  what  she  has  gone  through,  but  I  think  she  is  a 
little  better  lately." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Elnora.  "She  seems  more  interested 
in  my  clothes,  and  she  fixes  me  such  delicious  lunches  that 
the  girls  bring  fine  candies  and  cake  and  beg  to  trade.  I 
gave  half  my  lunch  for  a  box  of  candy  one  day,  brought  it 
home  to  her,  and  told  her.  Since,  she  has  wanted  me  to 
carry  a  market  basket  and  treat  the  crowd  every  day,  she 
was  so  pleased.  Life  has  been  too  monotonous  for  her. 
I  think  she  enjoys  even  the  little  change  made  by  my  go- 
ing and  coming.  She  sits  up  half  the  night  to  read  the 
library  books  I  bring,  but  she  is  so  stubborn  she  won't 
even  admit  that  she  touches  them.  Tell  me  more  about 
my  father." 

"Wait  until  I  see  if  I  can  get  the  violin." 

So  Elnora  went  home  in  suspense,  and  that  night  she 
added  to  her  prayers,  "Dear  Lord,  be  merciful  to  my 
father,  and,  oh,  do  help  Aunt  Margaret  to  get  his 
violin." 

Wesley  and  Billy  came  in  to  supper  tired  and  hungry. 
Billy  ate  heartily,  but  his  eyes  often  rested  on  a  plate  of 
tempting  cookies,  and  when  Wesley  offered  them  to  the 
boy  he  reached  for  one.  Margaret  was  compelled  to  ex- 
plain that  cookies  were  forbidden  that  night. 

"What!"  said  Wesley.  "Wrong  words  been  coming 
again.     Oh,   Billy,   I  do  wish  you  could   remember!     I 


ELNORA  DISCOVERS  A  VIOLIN  177 

can't  sit  and  eat  cookies  before  a  little  boy  who  has  none. 
I'll  have  to  put  mine  back,  too." 

Billy's  face  was  a  puzzle.     It  twisted  in  despair. 

"Aw,  go  on!"  he  said  gruffly,  but  his  chin  was  jumping, 
for  Wesley  was  his  idol. 

"Can't  do  it,"  said  Wesley.     "It  would  choke  me." 

Billy  turned  to  Margaret.  "You  make  him,"  he  ap- 
pealed. 

"He  can't,  Billy,"  said  Margaret.  "I  know  how  he 
feels.     You  see,  I  can't  myself." 

Then  Billy  slid  from  his  chair,  ran  to  the  couch,  buried 
his  face  in  the  pillow  and  cried  heartbrokenly.  Wesley 
hurried  to  the  barn,  and  Margaret  to  the  kitchen.  When 
the  dishes  were  almost  washed  Billy  slipped  from  the 
back  door. 

Wesley  piling  hay  into  the  mangers  heard  a  sound  be- 
hind him  and  inquired,  "That  you,  Billy?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Billy,  "and  it's  all  so  dark  you  can't 
see  me  now,  isn't  it?" 

"Well,  mighty  near,"  answered  Wesley. 

"Then  you  stoop  down  and  open  your  mouth." 

Sinton  had  shared  bites  of  apple  and  nuts  for  weeks, 
for  Billy  had  not  learned  how  to  eat  anything  without 
dividing  with  Jimmy  and  Belle.  Since  he  was  separated 
from  them,  he  shared  with  Wesley  and  Margaret.  So 
he  bent  over  the  small  figure  and  received  an  instalment 
of  cooky  that  almost  choked  him. 

"Now  you  can  eat  it!"  shouted  Billy  in  delight. 
"It's  all  dark!     I  can't  see  what  you're  doing  't  all!" 


178  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Wesley  picked  up  the  small  figure  and  set  the  boy  on 
the  back  of  a  horse  to  bring  his  face  level  so  that  they 
could  talk  as  men.  He  never  towered  from  his  height 
above  Billy,  but  always  lifted  the  little  soul  when  im- 
portant matters  were  to  be  discussed. 

"Now  what  a  dandy  scheme,"  he  commented.  "Did 
you  and  Aunt  Margaret  fix  it  up  ?  " 

"No.  She  ain't  had  hers  yet.  But  I  got  one  for  her. 
1st  as  soon  as  you  eat  yours,  I  am  going  to  take  hers, 
and  feed  her  first  time  I  find  her  in  the  dark." 

"But,  Billy,  where  did  you  get  the  cookies?  You 
know  Aunt  Margaret  said  you  were  not  to  have  any." 

"I  ist  took  them,"  said  Billy.  "I  didn't  take  them  for 
me.     I  ist  took  them  for  you  and  her." 

Wesley  swallowed  hard  and  thought  fast.  In  the  warm 
darkness  of  the  barn  the  horses  crunched  their  corn,  a  rat 
gnawed  at  a  corner  of  the  granary,  and  among  the  rafters 
the  white  pigeon  cooed  a  soft  sleepy  note  to  his  dusky 
mate. 

"Did  —  did  —  I  steal?"  wavered  Billy  through  the 
darkness. 

Wesley's  big  hands  closed  until  he  almost  hurt  the  boy. 

"No!"  he  said  vehemently.  "That  is  too  big  a  word. 
You  just  made  a  mistake.  You  were  trying  to  be  a  fine 
little  man,  but  you  went  at  it  the  wrong  way.  You  only 
made  a  mistake.  All  of  us  do  that,  Billy.  The  world 
grows  that  way.  When  we  make  mistakes  we  can  see 
them;  that  teaches  us  to  be  more  careful  the  next  time, 
and  so  we  learn." 


ELNORA  DISCOVERS  A  VIOLIN  179 

"How  wouldn't  it  be  a  mistake?" 

"If  you  had  told  Aunt  Margaret  what  you  wanted  to 
do,  and  asked  her  for  the  cookies  she  would  have  given 
them  to  you." 

"But  I  was  'fraid  she  wouldn't,  and  you  ist  had  to 
have  it." 

"Not  if  it  was  wrong  for  me  to  have  it,  Billy.  I  don't 
want  it  that  much." 

"Must  I  take  it  back?" 

"You  think  hard,  and  decide  yourself,"  suggested 
Wesley. 

"Lift  me  down,"  said  Billy,  after  a  silence.  "I  got  to 
put  this  in  the  jar,  and  tell  her." 

Wesley  set  the  boy  on  the  floor,  but  as  he  did  so  he 
paused  one  second  and  strained  him  close  to  his  breast. 

Margaret  sat  in  her  chair  sewing.  Billy  slipped  in 
and  crept  up  beside  her.  The  little  face  was  lined  with 
tragedy. 

"Why,  Billy,  whatever  is  the  matter?"  she  cried  as  she 
dropped  her  sewing  and  held  out  her  arms.  Billy  stood 
back.  He  gripped  his  little  fists  tight  and  squared  his 
shoulders.     "I  got  to  be  shut  up  in  the  closet,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  Billy!  What  an  unlucky  day!  What  have  you 
done  now?" 

"I  stold!"  gulped  Billy.  "He  said  it  was  ist  a  mistake, 
but  it  was  worser  'an  that.  I  took  something  you  told 
me  I  wasn't  to  have." 

"Stole!"     Margaret  was  in  despair.     "What,  Billy?" 

"Cookies!"  answered  Billy  in  equal  trouble. 


i8o  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Billy!"  wailed  Margaret.     "How  could  you?" 

"It  was  for  him  and  you,"  sobbed  Billy.  "He  said  he 
couldn't  eat  it  'fore  me,  but  out  in  the  barn  it's  all  dark 
and  I  couldn't  see.  I  thought  maybe  he  could  there. 
Then  we  might  put  out  the  light  and  you  could  have  yours. 
He  said  I  only  made  it  worse,  'cos  I  mustn't  take  things, 
and  I  know  I  mustn't,  so  I  got  to  go  in  the  closet." 

Margaret  gazed  at  him  helplessly. 

"Will  you  hold  me  tight  a  little  bit  first?     He  did." 

Margaret  opened  her  arms  and  Billy  rushed  in  and 
clung  to  her  a  few  seconds  with  all  the  force  of  his  being, 
then  he  slipped  to  the  floor  and  marched  to  the  closet. 
Margaret  opened  the  door.  Billy  gave  one  glance  at  the 
light,  clinched  his  fists  and,  walking  inside,  climbed  on  a 
box.     Margaret  shut  her  eyes  and  closed  the  door. 

Then  she  sat  and  listened.  Was  the  air  pure  enough? 
Possibly  he  might  smother.  She  had  read  something 
once.  Was  it  very  dark?  What  if  there  should  be  a 
mouse  in  the  closet  and  it  should  run  across  his  foot  and 
frighten  him  into  spasms.  Somewhere  she  had  heard 
Margaret  leaned  forward  with  tense  face  and  lis- 
tened. Something  dreadful  might  happen.  She  could 
bear  it  no  longer.  She  arose  hurriedly  and  opened  the 
door.  Billy  was  drawn  up  on  the  box  in  a  little  heap, 
and  he  lifted  a  disapproving  face  to  her. 

"Shut  that  door!"  he  said.  "I  ain't  been  in  here  near 
long  enough  yet!" 


CHAPTER  X 

Wherein   Elnora   Has   More   Financial  Troubles, 

and  Mrs.   Comstock  Again  Hears  the 

Song  of  the  Limberlost 

The  next  night  Elnora  hurried  to  Sinton's.  She  threw 
open  the  back  door  and  searched  Margaret's  face  with 
anxious  eyes. 

"You  got  it!"  panted  Elnora.  "You  got  it!  I  can 
see  by  your  face  that  you  did.     Oh,  give  it  to  me!" 

"Yes,  I  got  it,  honey;  I  got  it  all  right,  but  don't  be  so 
fast.  You  can't  have  it  before  Saturday.  It  has  been 
kept  in  such  a  damp  place  it  needed  gluing,  it  had  to 
have  strings,  and  a  key  was  gone.  I  knew  how  much  you 
wanted  it,  so  I  sent  Wesley  right  to  town  with  it.  They 
said  they  could  fix  it  good  as  new,  but  it  should  be  var- 
nished, and  that  it  would  take  several  days  for  the  glue 
to  set.     You  can  have  it  Saturday." 

"You  found  it  where  you  thought  it  was?  You  know 
it's  his?" 

"Yes,  it  was  just  where  I  thought,  and  it's  the  same 
violin  I've  seen  him  play  hundreds  of  times.  It's  all 
right,  only  laying  so  long  it  needs  fixing." 

"Oh,  Aunt  Margaret!     Can  I  ever  wait?" 

181 


182  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"It  does  seem  a  long  time,  but  how  could  I  help  it? 
You  couldn't  do  anything  with  it  as  it  was.  You  see,  it 
had  been  hidden  away  in  a  garret,  and  it  needed  cleaning 
and  drying  to  make  it  fit  to  play  again.  You  can  have  it 
Saturday  sure." 

"Saturday  morning?" 

"He  just  said  Saturday.  But,  Elnora,  you've  got  to 
promise  me  that  you  will  leave  it  here,  or  in  town,  and  not 
let  your  mother  get  a  hint  of  it.  I  don't  know  what  she'd 
do." 

"Uncle  Wesley  can  bring  it  here  until  Monday.  Then 
I  will  take  it  to  school  so  that  I  can  practise  at  noon.  Oh, 
I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you.  And  there's  more  than 
the  violin  for  which  to  be  thankful.  You've  given  me  my 
father.     Last  night  I  saw  him  plain  as  life." 

"Elnora,  you  were  dreaming!  You  couldn't  have  seen 
him." 

"I  know  I  was  dreaming,  but  I  saw  him.  I  saw  him  so 
closely  that  a  tiny  white  scar  at  the  corner  of  his  eyebrow 
showed.  I  was  just  reaching  out  to  touch  him  when  he 
disappeared." 

"Who  told  you  there  was  a  scar  on  his  forehead?" 

"No  one  ever  did  in  all  my  life.  I  saw  it  last  night  just 
as  he  went  down.  And,  oh,  Aunt  Margaret !  I  saw  what 
she  did,  and  I  heard  his  cries !  No  matter  what  she  does, 
I  don't  believe  I  ever  can  be  angry  with  her  again.  Her 
heart  is  broken,  and  she  can't  help  it.  Oh,  it  was  terrible, 
but  I  am  glad  I  saw  it.  Now,  I  will  always  under- 
stand." 


HAS  MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES       183 

"I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  that,"  said  Margaret. 
"I  don't  believe  in  such  stuff  at  all,  but  you  couldn't 
make  it  up,  for  you  didn't  know." 

"I  only  know  that  I  played  the  violin  last  night,  as  he 
played  it,  and  while  I  played  he  came  through  the  woods 
from  the  direction  of  Carney's.  It  was  summer  and  all 
the  flowers  were  in  bloom.  He  wore  gray  trousers  and  a 
blue  shirt;  his  head  was  bare,  and  his  face  was  beautiful. 
I  could  almost  touch  him  when  he  sank." 

Margaret  Sinton  stood  perplexed.  "  Well,  I  don't  know 
what  to  think  of  that!"  she  ejaculated.  "I  was  next 
to  the  last  person  who  saw  him  before  he  was  drowned. 
It  was  late  on  a  June  afternoon,  and  he  was  dressed  as  you 
describe.  He  was  bareheaded  because  he  had  found  a 
quail's  nest  before  the  bird  began  to  brood,  and  he  gath- 
ered the  eggs  in  his  hat  and  left  it  in  a  fence  corner  to  get 
on  his  way  home;  they  found  it  afterward." 

"Was  he  coming  from  Carney's?" 

"He  was  on  that  side  of  the  quagmire.  Why  he  ever 
skirted  it  so  close  as  to  get  caught  is  a  mystery  you  will 
have  to  dream  out.     I  never  could  understand  it." 

"Was  he  doing  something  he  didn't  want  my  mother 
to  know?" 

"Why?" 

"Because  if  he  was,  he  might  have  cut  close  the  swamp 
so  he  couldn't  be  seen  from  the  garden.  You  know,  the 
whole  path  straight  to  the  pool  where  he  sank  can  be  seen 
from  our  back  door.  It's  firm  on  our  side.  The  danger 
is  on  the  north  and  east.     If  he  didn't  want  mother  to 


184  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

know  he  might  have  tried  to  pass  on  either  of  those  sides 
and  gone  too  close.     Was  he  in  a  hurry?" 

"Yes,  he  was,"  said  Margaret.  "He  had  been  away 
longer  than  he  expected,  and  he  almost  ran  when  he 
started  home." 

"And  he'd  left  his  violin  somewhere  that  you  knew, 
and  you  went  and  got  it.  I'll  wager  he  was  going  to  play, 
and  didn't  want  mother  to  find  it  out!" 

"It  wouldn't  make  any  difference  to  you  if  you  knew 
every  little  thing,  so  quit  thinking  about  it,  and  just  be 
glad  you  are  to  have  what  he  loved  best  of  anything." 

"That's  true,  and  I  must  hurry  home,  or  I'll  have  to 
be  cutting  too  close  the  swamp  myself.  I  am  dreadfully 
late." 

Elnora  sprang  up  and  ran  down  the  road,  but  when  she 
was  near  the  cabin  she  climbed  the  fence,  crossed  the  open 
woods  pasture  diagonally  and  entered  at  the  back  garden 
gate.  As  she  often  came  that  way  when  she  had  been 
looking  for  cocoons  her  mother  asked  no  questions. 

Elnora  lived  by  the  minute  until  Saturday,  when,  con- 
trary to  his  usual  custom,  Sinton  went  to  town  in  the  fore- 
noon, taking  her  along  to  buy  some  groceries.  Sinton 
drove  straight  to  the  music  store,  and  asked  for  the  violin 
he  had  left  to  be  mended. 

In  its  new  coat  of  varnish,  with  new  keys  and  strings,  it 
looked  greatly  like  any  other  violin  to  Sinton,  but  to 
Elnora  it  was  the  most  beautiful  instrument  ever  made, 
and  a  priceless  treasure.  She  held  it  in  her  arms,  touched 
the  strings  softly  and  then  she  drew  the  bow  across  them 


HAS  MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES       185 

in  whispering  measure.  She  had  no  time  to  think  what  a 
remarkably  good  bow  it  was  for  sixteen  years'  disuse. 
The  tan  leather  case  might  have  impressed  her  as  being  in 
fine  condition  also,  had  she  been  in  a  state  to  question 
anything.  She  did  remember  to  ask  for  the  bill  and  she 
was  gravely  presented  with  a  slip  calling  for  four  strings, 
one  key,  and  a  coat  of  varnish  —  total,  one  dollar  fifty.  It 
seemed  to  Elnora  she  never  could  put  the  precious  in- 
strument in  the  case  and  start  home.  Wesley  left  her  in 
the  music  store,  where  the  proprietor  showed  her  all  he 
could  about  tuning,  and  gave  her  several  beginners'  sheets 
of  notes  and  scales.  She  carried  the  violin  in  her  arms 
as  far  as  the  crossroads  at  the  corner  of  their  land,  then 
reluctantly  put  it  under  the  carriage  seat. 

As  soon  as  her  work  was  done  she  ran  down  to  Sintons' 
and  began  to  play,  and  on  Monday  the  violin  went  to 
school  with  her.  She  made  arrangements  with  the  su- 
perintendent to  leave  it  in  his  office  and  scarcely  took  time 
for  her  food  at  noon,  she  was  so  eager  to  practise.  Often 
one  of  the  girls  asked  her  to  stay  in  town  all  night 
for  some  lecture  or  entertainment.  She  could  take 
the  violin  with  her,  practise,  and  secure  help.  Her 
skill  was  so  great  that  the  leader  of  the  orchestra  offered  to 
give  her  lessons  if  she  would  play  to  pay  for  them,  so 
her  progress  was  rapid  in  technical  work.  But  from  the 
first  day  the  instrument  became  hers,  with  perfect  faith 
that  she  could  play  as  her  father  did,  she  spent  half  her 
practice  time  in  imitating  the  sounds  of  all  outdoors  and 
improvising  the  songs  her  happy  heart  sang  in  those  days. 


186  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

So  the  first  year  went,  and  the  second  and  third  were 
a  repetition;  but  the  fourth  was  different,  for  that  was  the 
close  of  the  course,  ending  with  graduation  and  all  its 
attendant  ceremonies  and  expenses.  To  Elnora  these 
appeared  mountain  high.  She  had  hoarded  every  cent, 
thinking  twice  before  she  parted  with  a  penny,  but  teach- 
ing natural  history  in  the  grades  had  taken  time  from  her 
studies  in  school  which  must  be  made  up  outside.  She 
was  a  conscientious  student,  ranking  first  in  most  of  her 
classes,  and  standing  high  in  all  branches.  Her  interest 
in  her  violin  had  grown  with  the  years.  She  went  to 
school  early  and  practised  a  half  hour  in  the  little  room 
off  the  stage,  while  the  orchestra  gathered.  She  put  in  a 
full  hour  at  noon,  and  remained  another  half  hour  at 
night.  She  carried  the  violin  to  Sintons'  on  Saturday  and 
practised  all  the  time  she  could  there,  while  Margaret 
watched  the  road  to  see  that  Mrs.  Comstock  was  not  com- 
ing. She  had  become  so  skilful  that  it  was  a  delight  to 
hear  her  play  the  music  of  any  composer,  but  when  she 
played  her  own,  that  was  joy  inexpressible,  for  then  the 
wind  blew,  the  water  rippled,  the  Limberlost  sang  her 
songs  of  sunshine,  shadow,  black  storm,  and  white  night. 
Since  her  dream  Elnora  had  regarded  her  mother  with, 
peculiar  tenderness.  The  girl  realized,  in  a  measure, 
what  had  happened.  She  avoided  anything  that  pos- 
sibly could  stir  bitter  memories  or  draw  deeper  a  line 
on  the  hard,  white  face.  This  cost  many  sacrifices,  much 
work,  and  sometimes  delayed  progress,  but  the  horror  of 
that  awful  dream  remained  with  Elnora.     She  worked 


HAS  MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES       187 

her  way  cheerfully,  doing  all  she  could  to  interest  her 
mother  in  things  that  happened  in  school,  in  the  city,  and 
by  carrying  books  that  were  interesting  from  the  public 
libraries. 

Three  years  had  changed  Elnora  from  the  girl  of  six- 
teen to  the  very  verge  of  womanhood.  She  had  grown 
tall,  round,  and  her  face  had  the  loveliness  of  perfect  com- 
plexion, beautiful  eyes  and  hair  and  an  added  touch  from 
within  that  might  have  been  called  comprehension.  It 
was  a  compound  of  self-reliance,  hard  knocks,  heart  hun- 
ger, unceasing  work,  and  generosity.  There  was  no  form 
of  suffering  with  which  the  girl  could  not  sympathize,  no 
work  she  was  afraid  to  attempt,  no  subject  she  had  inves- 
tigated she  did  not  understand.  These  things  combined  to 
produce  a  breadth  and  depth  of  character  altogether  un- 
usual. She  was  so  absorbed  in  her  classes  and  her  music 
that  she  had  not  been  able  to  gather  specimens  as  usual. 
When  she  realized  this  and  hunted  assiduously,  she 
soon  found  that  changing  natural  conditions  had  affected 
such  work.  Men  all  around  were  clearing  available 
land.  The  trees  fell  wherever  corn  would  grow.  The 
swamp  was  broken  by  several  gravel  roads,  dotted  in 
places  around  the  edge  with  little  frame  houses,  and  the 
machinery  of  oil  wells;  one  especially  low  place  around 
the  region  of  Freckles's  room  was  nearly  all  that  re- 
mained of  the  original.  Wherever  the  trees  fell  the  mois- 
ture dried,  the  creeks  ceased  to  flow,  the  river  ran  low, 
and  at  times  the  bed  was  dry.  With  unbroken  sweep  the 
winds  of  the  west  came,  gathering  force  with  every  mile 


188  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

and  howled  and  raved,  threatening  to  tear  the  shingles 
from  the  roof,  blowing  the  surface  from  the  soil  in  clouds 
of  fine  dust,  and  rapidly  changing  everything.  From 
coming  in  with  two  or  three  dozen  rare  moths  in  a  day, 
in  three  years'  time  Elnora  had  grown  to  be  delighted 
with  finding  two  or  three.  Big  pursy  caterpillars  could 
not  be  picked  from  their  favourite  bushes,  when  there 
were  no  bushes.  Dragon-flies  would  not  hover  over  dry 
places,  and  butterflies  became  scarce  in  proportion  to  the 
flowers,  while  no  land  yields  over  three  crops  of  Indian 
relics. 

All  the  time  the  expense  of  books,  clothing  and  inci- 
dentals had  continued.  Elnora  added  to  her  bank  ac- 
count whenever  she  could,  and  drew  out  when  she  was 
compelled,  but  she  omitted  the  important  feature  of  call- 
ing for  a  balance.  So,  one  early  spring  morning  in  the 
last  quarter  of  the  fourth  year,  she  almost  fainted  when 
she  learned  that  all  her  funds  were  gone.  Commence- 
ment with  its  extra  expense  was  coming,  she  had  no 
money,  and  very  few  cocoons  to  open  in  June,  which 
would  be  too  late.  She  had  one  collection  for  the  Bird 
Woman  complete  to  a  pair  of  Imperialis  moths,  and  that 
was  her  only  asset.  On  the  day  she  added  these  big 
Yellow  Emperors  she  would  get  a  check  for  three  hundred 
dollars,  but  she  would  not  get  it  until  these  specimens 
were  secured.  She  remembered  that  she  never  had  found 
an  Emperor  before  June. 

Moreover,  that  sum  was  for  her  first  year  in  college. 
Then  she  would  be  of  age,  and  she  meant  to  sell  enough 


HAS  MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES       189 

of  her  share  of  her  father's  land  to  finish.  She  knew  her 
mother  would  oppose  her  bitterly  in  that,  for  Mrs.  Corn- 
stock  had  clung  to  every  acre  and  tree  that  belonged 
to  her  husband.  Her  land  was  almost  complete  forest, 
where  her  neighbours  owned  cleared  farms,  dotted  with 
wells  that  every  hour  sucked  oil  from  beneath  her  hold- 
ings, but  she  was  too  absorbed  in  the  grief  she  nursed  to 
know  or  care.  The  Brushwood  road  and  the  redredging 
of  the  great  Limberlost  ditch  had  been  more  than  she 
could  pay  from  her  income,  and  she  had  trembled  before 
the  wicket  as  she  asked  the  banker  if  she  had  funds  to  pay 
it,  and  wondered  why  he  laughed  as  he  assured  her  she 
had.  For  Mrs.  Comstock  had  spent  no  time  on  com- 
pounding interest,  and  never  added  the  sums  she  had 
been  depositing  through  nearly  twenty  years.  Now  she 
thought  her  funds  were  almost  gone,  and  every  day  she 
worried  over  expenses.  She  could  see  no  reason  in  going 
through  the  forms  of  graduation  when  pupils  had  all  in 
their  heads  that  was  required  to  graduate.  Elnora  knew 
she  had  to  have  her  diploma  in  order  to  enter  the  college 
she  wanted  to  attend,  but  she  did  not  dare  utter  the 
word,  until  high  school  was  finished,  for,  instead  of  soften- 
ing as  she  hoped  her  mother  had  begun  to  do,  she  seemed 
to  remain  very  much  the  same. 

When  the  girl  reached  the  swamp  she  sat  on  a  log  and 
thought  bitterly  over  the  absolute  expense  she  was  com- 
pelled to  meet.  Every  member  of  her  particular  set  was 
having  an  expensive  photograph  taken  to  exchange  with 
the  others.     Elnora  loved  these  girls  and  boys,  and  to  say 


190  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

she  eould  not  have  their  pictures  to  keep  was  more  than 
she  could  bear.  Each  one  would  give  to  all  the  others 
a  handsome  graduation  present.  She  knew  they  would 
prepare  gifts  for  her  whether  she  could  make  a  present  in 
return  or  not.  Then  it  was  the  custom  for  each  graduat- 
ing class  to  give  a  great  entertainment  and  use  the  funds 
to  present  the  school  with  a  statue  for  the  entrance  hall. 
Elnora  had  been  cast  for  and  was  practising  a  part  in  that 
performance.  She  was  expected  to  furnish  her  dress  and 
personal  necessities.  She  had  been  told  that  she  must 
have  a  green  dress,  and  where  was  it  to  come  from  ? 

Every  girl  of  the  class  would  have  three  beautiful  new 
frocks  for  Commencement:  one  for  the  baccalaureate 
sermon,  another,  which  could  be  plainer,  for  graduation 
exercises,  and  a  handsome  one  for  the  banquet  and  ball. 
Elnora  faced  the  past  three  years  and  wondered  how  she 
could  have  spent  so  much  money  and  not  kept  account  of 
it.  She  did  not  realize  where  it  had  gone.  She  did  not 
know  what  she  could  do  now.  She  thought  over  the 
photographs,  and  at  last  settled  that  question  to  her 
satisfaction.  She  studied  longer  over  the  gifts,  ten  hand* 
some  ones  there  must  be,  and  at  last  decided  she  could 
arrange  for  them.  The  green  dress  came  first.  The 
lights  would  be  dim  in  the  scene,  and  the  setting  deep 
woods.  She  could  manage  that.  She  simply  could  not 
have  three  dresses.  She  would  have  to  get  a  very  simple 
one  for  the  sermon  and  do  the  best  she  could  for  gradua- 
tion. Whatever  she  got  for  that  must  be  made  with  a 
guimpe  that  could  be  taken  out  to  make  it  a  little  more 


HAS  MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES        191 

festive  for  the  ball.  But  where  could  she  get  even  two 
pretty  dresses? 

The  only  hope  she  could  see  was  to  break  into  the  col- 
lection of  the  man  from  India,  sell  some  moths,  and  try  to 
replace  them  in  June.  But  in  her  soul  she  knew  that 
never  would  do.  No  June  ever  brought  just  the  things 
she  hoped  it  would.  If  she  spent  the  college  money  she 
knew  she  could  not  replace  it.  If  she  did  not,  the  only 
way  was  to  try  for  a  room  in  the  grades  and  teach  a  year. 
Her  work  there  had  been  so  appreciated  that  Elnora  felt 
with  the  recommendation  she  knew  she  could  get  from  the 
superintendent  and  teachers  she  could  secure  a  position. 
She  was  sure  she  could  pass  the  examinations  easily. 
She  had  once  gone  on  Saturday,  taken  them  and  secured 
a  license,  for  a  year  before,  she  left  the  Brushwood 
school. 

She  wanted  to  start  to  college  when  the  other  girls  were 
going.  If  she  could  make  the  first  year  alone,  she  could 
manage  the  rest.  But  make  that  first  year  herself,  she 
must.  Instead  of  selling  any  of  her  collection,  she  must 
hunt  as  she  never  before  had  hunted  and  find  a  Yellow 
Emperor.  She  had  to  have  it,  that  was  all.  Also,  she 
had  to  have  those  dresses.  She  thought  of  Sinton  and 
dismissed  it.  She  thought  of  the  Bird  Woman,  and 
knew  she  could  not  tell  her.  She  thought  of  every  way  in 
which  she  ever  had  hoped  to  earn  money  and  realized 
that  with  the  play,  committee  meetings,  practising,  and 
final  examinations  she  scarcely  had  time  to  live,  much 
less  to  do  more  than  the  work  required  for  her  pictures 


i92  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

and  gifts.  Again  Elnora  was  in  trouble,  and  this  time  it 
seemed  the  worst  of  all. 

It  was  dark  when  she  arose  and  went  home. 

"Mother,"  she  said,  "I  have  a  piece  of  news  that  is 
decidedly  not  cheerful." 

"Then  keep  it  to  yourself!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I 
think  I  have  enough  to  bear  without  a  great  girl  like  you 
piling  trouble  on  me." 

"My  money  is  all  gone!"  said  Elnora. 

"Well,  did  you  think  it  would  last  forever?  It's  been 
a  marvel  to  me  that  it's  held  out  as  well  as  it  has,  the  way 
you've  dressed  and  gone." 

"I  don't  think  I've  spent  any  that  I  was  not  com- 
pelled to,"  said  Elnora.  "I've  dressed  on  just  as  little 
as  I  possibly  could  to  keep  going.  I  am  heartsick.  I 
thought  I  had  over  fifty  dollars  to  put  me  through  Com- 
mencement, but  they  tell  me  it's  all  gone." 

"Fifty  dollars!  To  put  you  through  Commencement! 
Well,  what  on  earth  are  you  proposing  to  do?" 

"The  same  as  the  rest  of  them,  in  the  very  cheapest 
way  possible." 

"And  what  might  that  be?" 

Elnora  omitted  the  photographs,  the  gifts  and  the  play. 
She  told  only  of  the  sermon,  graduation  exercises,  and  the 
ball. 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  trouble  myself  over  that,"  sniffed 
Mrs.  Comstock.  "If  you  want  to  go  to  a  sermon,  put 
on  the  dress  you  always  use  for  meeting.  If  you  need 
white  for  exercises,  wear  the  new  dress  you  got  last  spring. 


HAS  MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES       193 

As  for  the  ball,  the  best  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  stay  a 
mile  away  from  such  folly.  In  my  opinion  you'd  best 
bring  home  your  books,  and  quit  right  now.  You  can't 
be  fixed  like  the  rest  of  them;  don't  be  so  foolish  as  to  run 
into  it.  Just  stay  here  and  let  these  last  few  days  go. 
You  can't  learn  enough  more  to  be  of  any  account." 

"But,  mother,"  gasped  Elnora.  "You  don't  under- 
stand!", 

"Oh,  yes,  I  do!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I  understand 
perfectly.  So  long  as  the  money  lasted,  you  held  up 
your  head,  and  went  sailing  without  even  explaining  how 
you  got  it  from  the  stuff  you  gathered.  Goodness  knows 
I  couldn't  see.  But  now  it's  gone,  you  come  whining  to 
me.  What  have  I  got?  Have  you  forgot  that  the  ditch 
and  the  road  completely  strapped  me?  I  haven't  any 
money.     There's  nothing  for  you  to  do  but  get  out  of  it." 

"I  can't!"  said  Elnora  desperately.  "I've  gone  on  too 
long.  It  would  make  a  break  in  everything.  They 
wouldn't  let  me  have  my  diploma!" 

"What's  the  difference?  You've  got  the  stuff  in  your 
head.  I  wouldn't  give  a  rap  for  a  scrap  of  paper.  That 
don't  mean  anything!" 

"  But  I've  worked  four  years  for  it,  and  I  can't  enter  — 
I  ought  to  have  it  to  help  me  get  a  school,  when  I  want  to 
teach.  If  I  don't  have  my  grades  to  show,  people  will 
think  I  quit  because  I  couldn't  pass  my  examinations.  I 
must  have  my  diploma!" 

"Then  get  it!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"The  only  way  is  to  graduate  with  the  rest." 


i94  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Well,  graduate  if  you  are  bound  to!" 

"But  I  can't,  unless  I  have  things  enough  like  the 
others,  that  I  don't  look  as  I  did  that  first  day." 

"Well,  please  remember  I  didn't  get  you  into  this,  and 
I  can't  get  you  out.  You  are  set  on  having  your  own 
way.    Go  on,  and  have  it,  and  see  how  you  like  it!" 

Elnora  went  upstairs  and  did  not  come  down  again 
that  night,  which  her  mother  called  pouting. 

"I've  thought  all  night,"  said  the  girl  at  breakfast,  "and 
I  can't  see  any  way  but  to  borrow  the  money  of  Uncle 
Wesley  and  pay  it  back  from  some  that  the  Bird  Woman 
will  owe  me  when  I  get  one  more  specimen.  But  that 
means  that  I  can't  go  to  —  that  I  will  have  to  teach  this 
winter,  if  I  can  get  a  city  grade  or  a  country  school." 

"Just  you  dare  go  dinging  after  Wesley  Sinton  for 
money,"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "You  won't  do  any  such 
a  thing!" 

"I  can't  see  any  other  way.  I've  got  to  have  the 
money!" 

"Quit,  I  tell  you!" 

"I  can't  quit!  —  I've  gone  too  far!" 

"Well,  then,  let  me  get  your  clothes,  and  you  can  pay 
me  back." 

"But  you  said  you  had  no  money!" 

"Maybe  I  can  borrow  some  at  the  bank.  Then  you  can 
return  it  when  the  Bird  Woman  pays  you." 

"All  right,"  said  Elnora.  "I  don't  have  to  have  ex- 
pensive things.  Just  some  kind  of  a  pretty  cheap  white 
dress  for  the  sermon,  and  a  white  one  a  little  better  than 


HAS    MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES      195 

I  had  last  summer,  for  Commencement  and  the  ball.  I 
can  use  the  white  gloves  and  shoes  I  got  myself  for  last 
year,  and  you  can  get  my  dress  made  at  the  same  place 
you  did  that  one.  They  have  my  measurements,  and  do 
perfect  work.  Don't  get  expensive  things.  It  will  be  warm, 
so  I  can  go  bareheaded. " 

Then  she  started  to  school,  but  was  so  tired  and  dis- 
couraged she  scarcely  could  walk.  Four  years'  plans 
going  in  one  day  I  For  she  felt  that  if  she  did  not  get 
started  to  college  that  fall  she  never  would.  Instead  of 
feeling  relieved  at  her  mother's  offer,  she  was  almost  too 
ill  to  go  on.  For  the  thousandth  time  she  groaned,  "  Oh, 
why  didn't  I  keep  account  of  my  money?" 

After  that  the  days  went  so  swiftly  she  scarcely  had 
time  to  think  j  but  several  trips  her  mother  made  to  town, 
and  the  assurance  that  everything  was  all  right,  satisfied 
Elnora.  She  worked  very  hard  to  pass  good  final  ex- 
amina  tions  and  perfect  herself  for  the  play.  For  two  days 
she  had  remained  in  town  with  the  Bird  Woman  in  order 
to  spend  more  time  practising  and  at  her  work. 

Often  Margaret  had  asked  about  her  dresses  for  grad- 
uation, and  Elnora  had  replied  that  they  were  whh  a 
woman  in  the  city  who  had  made  her  a  white  dress  for 
last  year's  Commencement  when  she  was  a  junior  usher, 
and  they  would  be  all  right.  So  Margaret,  Wesley,  and 
Billy  concerned  themselves  over  what  they  would  get 
her  for  a  present.  Margaret  suggested  a  beautiful  dress. 
Sinton  said  that  would  look  to  every  one  as  if  she  needed 
dresses.    The  thing  was  to  get  a  handsome  gift  like  all 


196  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

the  rest  would  have.  Billy  wanted  to  present  her  a  five- 
dollar  gold  piece  to  buy  music  for  her  violin.  He  was 
positive  Elnora  would  like  that  best  of  anything. 

It  was  toward  the  close  of  the  term  when  they  drove 
to  town  one  evening  to  try  to  settle  this  important  ques- 
tion. They  knew  Mrs.  Comstock  had  been  alone  several 
days,  so  they  asked  her  to  accompany  them.  She  had 
been  more  lonely  than  she  would  admit,  filled  with  un- 
usual unrest  besides,  and  so  she  was  glad  to  go.  But  be- 
fore they  had  driven  a  mile  Billy  had  told  that  they  were 
going  to  buy  Elnora  a  graduation  present,  and  Mrs.  Com- 
stock devoutly  wished  that  she  had  remained  at  home. 
She  was  prepared  when  Billy  asked,  "Aunt  Kate,  what 
are  you  going  to  give  Elnora  when  she  graduates?" 

"Plenty  to  eat,  a  good  bed  to  sleep  in,  and  do  all  the 
work  while  she  trollops,"  answered  Mrs.  Comstock 
dryly. 

Billy  reflected.  "I  guess  all  of  them  have  got  that," 
he  said.  "I  mean  a  present  you  buy  at  the  store,  like 
Christmas  ?  " 

"It  is  only  rich  folks  that  buy  presents  at  stores," 
replied.  Mrs.  Comstock.     "I  can't  afford  it." 

"Well,  we  ain't  rich,"  he  said,  "but  we  are  going  to  buy 
Elnora  something  as  fine  as  the  rest  of  them  have  if  we 
sell  a  corner  of  the  farm.     Uncle  Wesley  said  so." 

"A  fool  and  his  land  is  soon  parted,"  said  Mrs.  Com- 
stock tersely.  Wesley  and  Billy  laughed,  but  Margaret 
did  not  enjoy  the  remark. 

While  they  were  searching  the  stores  for  something  on 


HAS  MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES       197 

which  all  of  them  could  decide,  and  Margaret  was 
holding  Billy  to  keep  him  from  saying  anything  before 
Mrs.  Comstock  about  the  music  on  which  he  was  deter- 
mined, Mr.  Brownlee  met  Wesley  and  stopped  to  shake 
hands. 

"  I  see  your  boy  came  out  finely,"  he  said. 

"I  don't  allow  any  boy  anywhere  to  be  finer  than 
Billy,"  said  Sinton. 

"I  guess  you  don't  allow  any  girl  to  surpass  Elnora," 
said  Mr.  Brownlee.  "She  comes  home  with  Ellen  often, 
and  my  wife  and  I  love  her.  Ellen  says  she  is  great  in  her 
part  to-night.  Best  thing  in  the  whole  play!  Of  course, 
you  are  in  to  see  it!  If  you  haven't  reserved  seats,  you'd 
best  start  pretty  soon,  for  the  high  school  auditorium  only 
seats  a  thousand.  It's  always  jammed  at  these  home- 
talent  plays.  All  of  us  want  to  see  how  our  children 
perform." 

"Why,  yes,  of  course,"  said  the  bewildered  Sinton. 
Then  he  hurried  to  Margaret.  "Say,"  he  said,  "there  is 
going  to  be  a  play  at  the  high  school  to-night,  and  Elnora 
is  in  it.     Why  hasn't  she  told  us?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Margaret,  "but  I'm  going." 

"So  am  I,"  said  Billy. 

"Me,  too!"  said  Wesley,  "unless  you  think  for  some 
reason  she  don't  want  us.  Looks  like  she  would  have  told^ 
us  if  she  had.     I'm  going  to  ask  her  mother." 

"Yes,  that's  what's  she's  been  staying  in  town  for," 
said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "It's  some  sort  of  a  swindle  to 
raise  money  for  her  class  to  buy  some  silly  thing  to  stick 


J98  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

up  in  the  schoolhouse  hall  to  remember  them  by.  I 
don't  know  whether  it's  now  or  next  week,  but  there's 
something  of  the  kind  to  be  done." 

"Well,  it's  to-night,"  said  Wesley,  "and  we  are  going. 
It's  my  treat,  and  we've  got  to  hurry  or  we  won't  get  in. 
There's  reserved  seats,  and  we  have  none,  so  it's  the  gal- 
lery for  us,  but  I  don't  care  so  I  get  to  take  one  good  peep 
at  Elnora." 

"S'pose  she  plays?"  whispered  Margaret  in  his  ear. 

"Aw,  tush!     She  couldn't!"  said  Wesley. 

"Well,  she's  been  doing  it  three  years  in  the  orchestra, 
and  working  like  a  slave  at  it." 

"Oh,  well,  that's  different.  She's  in  the  play  to-night, 
Brownlee  told  me  so.  Come  on,  quick!  We'll  drive  and 
hitch  closest  place  we  can  find  to  the  building." 

Margaret  went  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  but 
she  was  troubled. 

When  they  reached  the  building  Wesley  tied  the  team 
to  a  railing  and  Billy  sprang  out  to  help  Margaret.  Mrs. 
Comstock  sat  still. 

"Come  on,  Kate,"  said  Wesley,  reaching  his  hand. 

"I'm  not  going  anywhere,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock,  set- 
tling comfortably  back  against  the  cushins. 

All  of  them  begged  and  pleaded,  but  it  was  no  use.  Not 
an  inch  would  Mrs.  Comstock  budge.  The  night  was 
warm  and  the  carriage  comfortable,  the  horses  were  se- 
curely hitched.  She  did  not  care  to  see  what  idiotic  thing 
a  pack  of  school  children  were  doing;  she  would  wait  until 
tfcte  Sintons  returned.     Wesley  told  her  it  might  be  two 


HAS  MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES       199 

hours,  and  she  said  she  did  not  care  if  it  was  four,  so  they 
left  her. 

"Did  you  ever  see  such ?" 

"Cookies!"  cried  Billy. 

"Such  blamed  stubbornness  in  all  your  life?"  demanded 
Sinton.  "Won't  come  to  see  as  fine  a  girl  as  Elnora  in  a 
stage  performance.  Why,  I  wouldn't  miss  it  for  fifty 
dollars!" 

"I  think  it's  a  blessing  she  didn't,"  said  Margaret 
placidly.  "I  begged  unusually  hard  so  she  wouldn't. 
I'm  scared  of  my  life  for  fear  Elnora  will  play." 

They  found  seats  near  the  door  where  they  could  see 
fairly  well.  Billy  stood  at  the  back  of  the  hall  and  had  a 
good  view.  By  and  by,  a  great  volume  of  sound  welled 
from  the  orchestra,  but  Elnora  was  not  playing. 

"Told  you  so!"  said  Sinton.  "Got  a  notion  to  go  out 
and  see  if  Kate  won't  come  now.  She  can  take  my  seat, 
and  I'll  stand  with  Billy. 

"You  sit  still!"  said  Margaret  emphatically.  "This  is 
not  over  yet." 

So  Wesley  remained  in  his  seat.  The  play  opened  and 
went  on  very  much  like  all  high  school  plays  have  gone 
for  the  past  fifty  years.  But  Elnora  did  not  appear  in 
any  of  the  scenes. 

Out  in  the  warm  summer  night  a  sour,  grim  woman 
nursed  an  aching  heart  and  tried  to  justify  herself.  The 
effort  irritated  her  intensely.  She  felt  that  she  could  not 
afford  the  things  that  were  being  done.  The  old  fear  of 
losing  the  land  that  she  and  Robert  Comstock  had  pur- 


200  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

chased  and  begun  to  clear  was  strong  upon  her.  She  was 
thinking  of  him,  how  she  needed  him,  when  the  orchestra 
music  poured  from  the  open  windows  near  her.  She 
leaned  back,  closed  her  eyes  and  tried  to  make  her  mind 
a  blank,  to  shut  out  even  the  music,  when  the  leading 
violin  began  a  solo.  Mrs.  Comstock  bore  it  as  long  as  she 
could,  and  then  slipped  from  the  carriage  and  fled  down 
the  street. 

She  did  not  know  how  far  she  went  or  how  long  she 
stayed,  but  everything  was  still,  save  an  occasional  raised 
voice  when  she  wandered  back.  She  stood  looking  at  the 
building.  Slowly  she  entered  the  wide  gates  and  fol- 
lowed up  the  walk.  Elnora  had  been  coming  here  for 
almost  four  years.  When  Mrs.  Comstock  reached  the 
door  she  looked  inside.  The  wide  hall  was  lighted  with 
electricity,  and  the  statuary  and  the  decorations  of  the 
walls  did  not  seem  like  pieces  of  foolishness.  The  marble 
looked  pure,  white,  and  the  big  pictures  most  inter- 
esting. She  walked  the  length  of  the  hall  and  slowly 
read  the  titles  of  the  statues  and  the  names  of  the  pupils 
who  had  donated  them.  She  speculated  on  where  the 
piece  Elnora's  class  would  buy  could  be  placed  to  ad- 
vantage. 

Then  she  wondered  if  they  were  having  a  large  enough 
audience  to  buy  marble.  She  liked  it  better  than  the 
bronze,  but  it  looked  as  if  it  cost  more.  How  white  the 
broad  stairway  was !  Elnora  had  been  climbing  those  stairs 
for  years  and  never  told  her  they  were  marble.  Of  course, 
she  thought  they  were  wood.     Probably  the  upper  hall 


HAS  MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES       201 

was  even  grander  than  this.  She  went  over  to  the  foun- 
tain, took  a  drink,  climbed  to  the  first  landing  and  looked 
about  her,  and  then  without  thought  to  the  second. 
There  she  came  opposite  the  wide  open  doors  and  the 
entrance  to  the  auditorium  packed  with  people  and  a 
croud  standing  outside.  When  they  noticed  a  tall  woman 
with  white  face  and  hair  and  black  dress,  one  by  one  they 
stepped  a  little  aside,  so  that  Mrs.  Comstock  could  see  the 
stage.  It  was  covered  with  curtains,  and  no  one  was 
doing  anything.  Just  as  she  turned  to  go  a  sound  so  faint 
that  every  one  leaned  forward  and  listened,  drifted  down 
the  auditorium.  It  was  difficult  to  tell  just  what  it 
was;  after  one  instant  half  the  audience  looked  toward 
the  windows,  for  it  seemed  only  a  breath  of  wind 
rustling  freshly  opened  leaves,  just  a  hint  of  stirring 
air. 

Then  the  curtains  were  swept  aside  swiftly.  The  stage 
had  been  transformed  into  a  lovely  little  corner  of  crea- 
tion, where  trees  and  flowers  grew  and  moss  carpeted  the 
earth.  A  soft  wind  blew  and  it  was  the  gray  of  dawn. 
Suddenly  a  robin  began  to  sing,  then  a  song  sparrow  joined 
him,  and  then  several  orioles  began  talking  at  once.  The 
light  grew  stronger,  the  dewdrops  trembled,  flower  per- 
fume began  to  creep  out  to  the  audience;  the  air  moved 
the  branches  gently  and  a  rooster  crowed.  Then  all  the 
scene  was  shaken  with  a  babel  of  bird  notes  in  which  you 
could  hear  a  cardinal  whistling,  and  a  blue-finch  piping. 
Back  somewhere  among  the  high  branches  a  dove  cooed 
and  then  a  horse  neighed  shrilly.     That  set  a  blackbird 


202  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

crying,  "T'  check,"  and  a  whole  flock  answered  it.  The 
crows  began  to  caw  and  a  lamb  bleated.  Then  the  gros- 
beaks, chats,  and  vireos  had  something  to  say,  the  sun  rose 
higher,  the  light  grew  stronger  and  the  breeze  rustled  the 
treetops  loudly;  a  cow  bawled  and  the  whole  barnyard 
answered.  The  guineas  were  clucking,  the  turkey  gob- 
bler strutting,  the  hens  calling,  the  chickens  cheeping, 
the  light  streamed  down  straight  overhead,  and  the  bees 
began  to  hum.  The  air  stirred  strongly,  and  off  in  an  un- 
seen field  a  reaper  clacked  and  rattled  through  ripening 
wheat  while  the  driver  whistled.  An  uneasy  mare  whick- 
ered to  her  colt,  the  colt  answered,  and  the  light  began  to 
decline.  Miles  away  a  rooster  crowed  for  twilight,  and  dusk 
was  coming  down.  Then  a  catbird  and  a  brown  thrush 
sang  against  a  grosbeak  and  a  hermit  thrush.  The  air 
was  tremulous  with  heavenly  notes,  the  lights  went  out  in 
the  hall,  dusk  swept  across  the  stage,  a  cricket  sang  and 
a  katydid  answered,  and  a  wood  pewee  wrung  the  heart 
with  its  lonesome  cry.  Then  a  night  hawk  screamed,  a 
whip-poor-will  complained,  a  belated  killdeer  swept  the 
sky,  and  the  night  wind  sang  a  louder  song.  A  little 
screech  owl  tuned  up  in  the  distance,  a  barn  owl  replied, 
and  a  great  horned  owl  drowned  both  their  voices.  The 
moon  shone  and  the  scene  was  warm  with  mellow  light. 
The  bird  voices  died  and  soft  exquisite  melody  began  to 
swell  and  roll.  In  the  centre  of  the  stage,  piece  by  piece 
the  grasses,  mosses  and  leaves  dropped  from  an  embank- 
ment, the  foliage  softly  blew  away,  while  plainer  and 
plainer  came  the  outlines  of  a  lovely  girl  figure  draped  in 


HAS  MORE  FINANCIAL  TROUBLES       20$ 

soft  clinging  green.  In  her  shower  of  bright  hair  a  few- 
green  leaves  and  white  blossoms  clung,  and  they  fell  over 
her  robe  down  to  her  feet.  Her  white  throat  and  arms 
were  bare,  she  leaned  forward  a  little  and  swayed  with  the 
melody,  her  eyes  fast  on  the  clouds  above  her,  her  lips 
parted,  a  pink  tinge  of  exercise  in  her  cheeks  as  she  drew 
her  bow.  She  played  as  only  a  peculiar  chain  of  cir- 
cumstances puts  it  in  the  power  of  a  very  few  to  play. 
All  nature  had  grown  still,  the  violin  sobbed,  sang,  danced, 
and  quavered  on  alone,  no  voice  in  particular,  just  the 
soul  of  the  melody  of  all  nature  combined  in  one  great 
outpouring. 

At  the  doorway,  a  white-faced  woman  bore  it  as  long  as 
she  could  and  then  fell  senseless.  The  men  nearest 
carried  her  down  the  hall  to  the  fountain,  revived  her, 
and  then  placed  her  in  the  carriage  to  which  she  directed 
them.  The  girl  played  on  and  never  knew.  When  she 
finished,  the  uproar  of  applause  sounded  a  block  down 
the  street,  but  the  half-senseless  woman  scarcely  realized 
what  it  meant.  Then  the  girl  came  to  the  front  of  the 
stage,  bowed,  and,  lifting  the  violin,  she  played  her  con- 
ception of  an  invitation  to  dance.  Every  living  soul 
within  sound  of  her  notes  strained  their  nerves  to  sit  still 
and  let  only  their  hearts  dance  with  her.  When  that  be- 
gan the  woman  ran  toward  the  country.  She  never  stopped 
until  the  carriage  overtook  her  half  way  to  her  cabin. 
She  only  said  she  had  grown  tired  of  sitting,  and  walked 
on  ahead.  That  night  she  asked  Billy  to  remain  with 
her  and  sleep  on  Elnora's  bed.     Then  she  pitched  head- 


204  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

long  upon  her  own,  and  suffered  agony  of  soul  such  as  she 
never  before  had  known.  The  swamp  had  sent  back  the 
soul  of  her  loved  dead  and  put  it  into  the  body  of  the 
daughter  she  resented,  and  it  was  almost  more  than  she 
could  bear  and  live. 


CHAPTER  XI 

Wherein    Elnora    Graduates,    and    Freckles    and 
the  Angel  Send  Gifts 

That  was  Friday  night.  Elnora  came  home  Saturday 
morning  and  went  to  work.  Mrs.  Comstock  asked  no 
questions,  and  the  girl  only  told  her  that  the  audience  had 
been  large  enough  to  more  than  pay  for  the  piece  of  statu- 
ary the  class  had  selected  for  the  hall.  Then  she  inquired 
about  her  dresses  and  was  told  they  would  be  ready  for 
her.  She  had  been  invited  to  go  to  the  Bird  Woman's  to 
prepare  for  both  the  sermon  and  Commencement  exer- 
cises. Since  there  was  so  much  practising  to  do,  it  had 
been  arranged  that  she  should  remain  there  from  the 
night  of  the  sermon  until  after  she  was  graduated.  If 
Mrs.  Comstock  decided  to  attend  she  was  to  drive  in 
with  the  Sintons.  When  Elnora  begged  her  to  come  she 
said  she  thought  not.  She  cared  nothing  about  such 
silliness. 

It  was  almost  time  for  Wesley  to  come  to  take  Elnora 
to  the  city  when,  fresh  from  her  bath,  with  shining,  crisply 
washed  hair,  and  dressed  to  her  outer  garment,  she  stood 
with  expectant  face  before  her  mother  and  cried,  "Now 
my  dress,  mother!" 

205 


206  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Mrs.  Comstock  was  pale  as  she  replied,  "It's  on  my 
bed.     Help  yourself." 

Elnora  opened  the  door  and  stepped  into  her  mother's 
room  with  never  a  misgiving.  Since  the  night  Margaret 
and  Wesley  had  brought  her  clothing,  when  she  first 
started  to  school,  her  mother  had  selected  all  of  her 
dresses,  with  Mrs.  Sinton's  help  made  most  of  them,  and 
Elnora  had  paid  the  bills.  The  white  dress  of  the  pre- 
vious spring  was  her  first  made  at  a  dressmaker's.  She 
had  worn  that  as  junior  usher  at  Commencement.  But 
her  mother  had  selected  the  goods,  had  it  made,  and  it 
had  fitted  perfectly  and  had  been  suitable  in  every  way. 
So  with  her  heart  at  rest  on  that  point,  Elnora  hurried 
to  the  bed  to  find  only  her  last  summer's  white  dress, 
freshly  washed  and  ironed.  For  an  instant  she  stared 
at  it,  then  she  picked  up  the  garment,  looked  at  the 
bed  beneath  it,  and  then  her  gaze  slowly  swept  the 
room. 

It  was  a  very  unfamiliar  room.  Perhaps  this  was  the 
third  time  she  had  been  in  it  since  she  was  a  very  small 
child.  Her  eyes  ranged  over  the  beautiful  walnut  dresser, 
the  tall  bureau,  the  big  chest,  inside  which  she  never  had 
seen,  and  the  row  of  masculine  attire  hanging  above  it. 
Somewhere  a  dainty  lawn  or  mull  dress  simply  must  be 
hanging.  But  it  was  not.  Elnora  dropped  on  the  chest 
because  she  felt  too  weak  to  stand.  In  less  than  two  hours 
she  must  be  in  the  church,  at  Onabasha.  She  could  not 
wear  a  last  year's  washed  dress.  She  had  nothing  else. 
She  leaned  against  the  wall  and  her  father's  overcoat 


ELNORA  GRADUATES  207 

brushed  her  face.  She  caught  the  folds  and  clung  to  it 
with  all  her  might. 

"Oh,  father!  father!"  she  moaned.  "I  need  you! 
I  don't  believe  you  would  have  done  this!" 

She  clung  to  the  coat  in  dry-eyed  agony  and  tried  to 
think  what  she  could  do.    At  last  she  opened  the  door. 

"I  can't  find  my  dress,"  she  said. 

"Well,  as  it's  the  only  one  there,  I  shouldn't  think  it 
would  be  much  trouble." 

"You  mean  for  me  to  wear  an  old  washed  dress  to- 
night?" 

"It's  a  good  dress.  There  isn't  a  hole  in  it!  There's 
no  reason  on  earth  why  you  shouldn't  wear  it." 

"Except  that  I  will  not,"  said  Elnora.  "Didn't  you 
get  me  any  dress  for  Commencement,  either?" 

"  If  you  soil  that  to-night,  I've  plenty  of  time  to  wash 
it  again." 

Sinton's  voice  called  from  the  gate. 

"  In  a  minute,"  answered  Elnora. 

She  ran  upstairs  and  in  an  incredibly  short  time  came 
down  wearing  one  of  her  gingham  school  dresses.  With 
a  cold,  hard  face  she  passed  her  mother  and  went  into  the 
night.  A  half  hour  later  Margaret  and  Billy  stopped  for 
Mrs.  Comstock  with  the  carriage.  She  had  determined 
fully  that  she  would  not  go  before  they  called.  With  the 
sound,  of  their  voices  a  sort  of  horror  of  being  left  seized 
her,  so  she  put  on  her  hat,  locked  the  door  and  went  out 
to  them. 

"How  did  Elnora  look?"  inquired  Margaret  anxiously. 


208  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Like  she  always  does,"  answered  Mrs.  Comstock 
curtly. 

"I  do  hope  her  dresses  are  as  pretty  as  the  rest,"  said 
Margaret.  "None  of  them  will  have  prettier  faces  or 
nicer  ways." 

"They  just  don't  have  one  half  as  pretty  faces  or  one 
tenth  as  nice  ways,"  boasted  Billy,  who  was  wrestling  with 
fractions. 

"Oh,  you  two  make  me  tired!"  scoffed  Mrs.  Comstock. 

Wesley  was  waiting  before  the  big  church  to  take  care 
of  the  team.  As  they  stood  watching  the  people  enter 
the  building,  Mrs.  Comstock  felt  herself  growing  ill,  with- 
out knowing  why.  When  they  went  inside  among  the 
lights,  saw  the  flower-decked  stage,  and  the  masses  of 
finely  dressed  people,  she  grew  no  better.  She  could  hear 
Margaret  and  Billy  softly  commenting  on  what  was  being 
done. 

"That  first  chair  in  the  very  front  row  is  Elnora's," 
exulted  Billy,  "'cos  she's  got  the  highest  grades,  and  so 
she  gets  to  lead  the  procession  to  the  platform." 

"The  first  chair!"  "Lead  the  procession!"  Mrs. 
Comstock  was  dumfounded.  The  notes  of  the  pipe 
organ  began  to  fill  the  building  in  a  slow  rolling  march. 
Would  Elnora  lead  the  procession  in  a  gingham  dress?  Or 
would  she  be  absent  and  her  chair  vacant  on  this  great 
occasion?  For  now  Mrs.  Comstock  could  see  that  it 
was  a  great  occasion.  Every  one  would  remember  how 
Elnora  had  played  a  few  nights  before,  and  they  would 
miss  her  and  pity  her.     Pity?     Because  she  had  no  one  to 


ELNORA  GRADUATES  209 

care  for  her.  Because  she  was  worse  off  than  if  she  had  no 
mother.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Mrs.  Comstock 
began  to  study  herself  as  she  would  appear  to  others. 
Every  time  a  junior  girl  came  fluttering  down  the  aisle, 
leading  some  one  to  a  seat,  and  Mrs.  Comstock  saw  a 
beautiful  white  dress  pass,  a  wave  of  positive  illness  swept 
over  her.  What  had  she  done?  What  would  become  of 
EInora  ? 

As  EInora  rode  to  the  city,  she  answered  Wesley's 
questions  in  monosyllables  so  that  he  thought  she  was 
nervous  or  rehearsing  her  speech  and  did  not  care  to  talk. 
Several  times  the  girl  tried  to  tell  him  and  realized  that 
if  she  said  the  first  word  it  would  bring  a  torrent  of 
tears.  The  Bird  Woman  opened  the  screen  and  stared 
unbelievingly. 

"Why,  I  thought  you  would  be  ready;  you  are  so  late!" 
she  said.  "  If  you  have  waited  to  dress  here,  we  will  have 
to  hurry." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  put  on,"  said  EInora. 

In  bewilderment  the  Bird  Woman  drew  her  inside. 

"Did  —  did — "  she  faltered,  "did  you  think  you 
would  wear  that?" 

"No.  I  thought  I  would  telephone  Ellen  that  there 
had  been  an  accident  and  I  could  not  come.  I  don't 
know  yet  how  to  explain.  I'm  too  sick  to  think.  Oh,  do 
you  suppose  I  can  get  something  made  by  Tuesday,  so  that 
I  can  graduate?" 

"Yes;  and  you'll  get  something  on  you  to-night,  so 
that  you  can  lead  your  class,  as  you  have  done  for  four 


210  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

years.  Go  to  my  room  and  take  off  that  gingham,  quickly. 
Anna,  drop  everything,  and  come  help  me." 

The  Bird  Woman  ran  to  the  telephone  and  called  Ellen 
Brownlee. 

"Elnora  has  had  an  accident.  She  will  be  a  little 
late,"  she  said.  "You  have  got  to  make  them  wait. 
Have  them  play  an  extra  musical  number  before  the 
march." 

Then  she  turned  to  the  maid.  "Tell  Benson  to  have 
the  carriage  at  the  gate  just  as  soon  as  he  can  get  it  there. 
Then  come  to  my  room.  Bring  the  thread  box  from  the 
sewing  room,  that  roll  of  wide  white  ribbon  on  the  cut- 
ting table,  and  gather  all  the  white  pins  from  every 
dresser  in  the  house.     But  first  come  with  me  a  minute." 

"  I  want  that  trunk  with  the  Swamp  Angel's  stuff  in  it, 
from  the  cedar  closet,"  she  panted  as  they  reached  the 
top  of  the  stairs. 

They  hurried  down  the  hall  together  and  dragged  the 
big  trunk  to  the  Bird  Woman's  room.  She  opened  it  and 
began  tossing  out  white  stuff. 

"How  lucky  that  she  left  these  things!"  she  cried. 
"Here  are  white  shoes,  gloves,  stockings,  fans,  every- 
thing!" 

"I  am  all  ready  but  a  dress,"  said  Elnora. 

The  Bird  Woman  began  opening  closets  and  pulling 
out  drawers  and  boxes. 

"I  think  I  can  make  it  this  way,"  she  said. 

She  snatched  up  a  creamy  lace  yoke  with  long  sleeves 
that  recently  had  been  made  for  her  and  held  it  out. 


ELNORA  GRADUATES  211 

Elnora  slipped  into  it,  and  the  Bird  Woman  began  smooth- 
ing out  wrinkles  and  sewing  in  pins.  It  fitted  very  well 
with  a  little  lapping  in  the  back.  Next,  from  among  the 
Angel's  clothing  she  caught  up  a  white  silk  waist  with  low 
neck  and  elbow  sleeves,  and  Elnora  put  it  on.  It  was 
large  enough,  but  distressingly  short  in  the  waist,  for  the 
Angel  had  worn  it  at  a  party  when  she  was  sixteen.  The 
Bird  Woman  loosened  the  sleeves  and  pushed  them  to  a 
puff  on  the  shoulders,  catching  them  in  places  with  pins. 
She  began  on  the  wide  draping  of  the  yoke,  fastening  it 
front,  back  and  at  each  shoulder.  She  pulled  down  the 
waist  and  pinned  it.  Next  came  a  soft  white  silk  dress 
skirt  of  her  own.  By  pinning  her  waist  band  quite  four 
inches  above  Elnora's,  the  Bird  Woman  could  secure  a 
perfect  Empire  sweep,  with  the  clinging  silk.  Then  she 
bgan  with  the  wide  white  ribbon  that  was  to  trim  a  new 
frock  for  herself,  bound  it  three  times  around  the  high 
waist  effect  she  had  managed,  tied  the  ends  in  a  knot  and 
let  them  fall  to  the  floor  in  a  beautiful  sash. 

"I  want  four  white  roses,  each  with  two  or  three 
leaves,"  she  cried. 

Anna  ran  for  them,  while  the  Bird  Woman  added  pins. 

"Elnora,"  she  said,  "forgive  me,  but  tell  me  truly.  Is 
your  mother  so  extremely  poor  as  to  make  this  neces- 
sary?" 

"No,"  answered  Elnora.  "Next  year  I  am  heir  to 
my  share  of  over  three  hundred  acres  of  land  covered 
with  almost  as  valuable  timber  as  was  in  the  Limberlost. 
We  adjoin  it.     There  could  be  dozens  of  oil  wells  drilled 


212  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

that  would  yield  to  us  the  thousands  our  neighbours  are 
draining  from  under  us,  and  the  bare  land  is  worth  over 
one  hundred  dollars  an  acre  for  farming.  She  is  not 
poor,  she  is  —  I  don't  know  what  she  is.  A  great  trouble 
soured  and  warped  her.  It  made  her  peculiar.  She 
does  not  in  the  least  understand,  but  it  is  because  she 
don't  care  to,  instead  of  ignorance.     She  does  not " 

Elnora  stopped. 

"She  is  —  is  different,"  finished  the  girl. 

Anna  came  with  the  roses.  The  Bird  Woman  set  one 
on  the  front  of  the  draped  yoke,  one  on  each  shoulder  and 
the  last  among  the  bright  masses  of  brown  hair.  Then 
she  turned  the  girl  facing  the  tall  mirror. 

"Oh!"  panted  Elnora.  "Is  that  me?  You  are  a 
genius!    Why,  I  will  look  as  well  as  any  of  them." 

"Well,  thank  goodness  for  that!"  cried  the  Bird  Woman. 
"  If  it  wouldn't  do,  I  should  have  been  ill.  You  are  lovely; 
altogether  lovely!  Ordinarily  I  shouldn't  say  that;  but 
when  I  think  of  how  you  are  carpentered,  I'm  adoring 
the  result." 

The  organ  began  rolling  out  the  march  as  they  came  in 
sight.  Elnora  took  her  place  at  the  head  of  the  pro- 
cession, while  every  one  wondered.  Secretly  they  had 
hoped  that  she  would  be  dressed  well  enough,  that  she 
would  not  appear  poor  and  neglected.  What  this  radi- 
ant young  creature,  gowned  in  the  most  recent  style,  her 
smooth  skin  flushed  with  excitement,  and  a  rose-set  coronet 
of  red  gold  on  her  head,  had  to  do  with  the  girl  they  knew 
was  difficult  to  decide.     The  signal  was  given  and  Elnora 


ELNORA  GRADUATES  213 

began  the  slow  march  across  the  vestry  and  down  the 
aisle.  The  music  welled  softly,  and  Margaret  began  to 
sob  without  knowing  why. 

Mrs.  Comstock  gripped  her  hands  together  and  shut 
her  eyes.  It  seemed  an  eternity  to  the  suffering  woman 
before  Margaret  caught  her  arm  and  whispered,  "Oh, 
Kate!  For  any  sake  look  at  her!  Here!  The  aisle 
across!" 

Mrs.  Comstock  opened  her  eyes  and,  directing  them 
where  she  was  told,  gazed  intently,  and  slid  down  in  her 
seat  on  the  verge  of  collapse.  She  was  saved  by  Mar- 
garet's tense  grip  and  her  command,  "Here!  Idiot! 
Stop  that!" 

In  the  blaze  of  light  Elnora  climbed  the  steps  to  the 
palm-embowered  platform,  crossed  it  and  took  her  place. 
Sixty  young  men  and  women,  each  of  them  dressed  the 
best  possible,  followed  her.  There  were  manly,  fine  look- 
ing men  in  that  class  which  Elnora  led.  There  were  girls 
of  beauty  and  grace,  but  not  one  of  them  was  handsomer 
or  clothed  in  better  taste  than  she. 

Billy  thought  the  time  never  would  come  when  Elnora 
would  see  him,  but  at  last  she  caught  his  eye,  then  Mar- 
garet and  Wesley  got  faint  signs  of  recognition  in  turn, 
but  there  was  no  softening  of  the  girl's  face  and  no  hint 
of  a  smile  when  she  saw  her  mother. 

Heartsick,  Katharine  Comstock  gripped  her  seat  and 
tried  to  prove  to  herself  that  she  was  justified  in  what  she 
had  done,  but  she  could  not.  She  tried  to  blame  Elnora 
for  not  saying  that  she  was  to  lead  a  procession  and  sit 


214  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

on  a  platform  in  the  sight  of  hundreds  of  people;  but  that 
was  impossible,  for  she  realized  that  she  would  have  scoffed 
and  not  understood  if  she  had  been  told.  Her  heart 
pained  until  she  suffered  acute  agony  with  every  breath. 

When  at  last  the  exercises  were  over  she  climbed  into 
the  carriage  and  rode  home  without  a  word.  She  did  not 
hear  what  Margaret  and  Billy  were  saying.  She  scarcely 
heard  Sinton,  who  drove  behind,  when  he  told  her  that 
Elnora  would  not  be  home  until  Wednesday.  Early  the 
next  morning  Mrs.  Comstock  was  on  her  way  to  Ona- 
basha.  She  was  waiting  when  the  Brownlee  store  opened. 
She  examined  ready-made  white  dresses,  but  they  had  only 
one  of  the  right  size,  and  it  was  marked  forty  dollarso 
Mrs.  Comstock  did  not  hesitate  over  the  price,  but 
whether  the  dress  would  be  suitable.  She  would  have  to 
ask  Elnora.  She  inquired  her  way  to  the  home  of  the 
Bird  Woman  and  knocked. 

"Is  Elnora  Comstock  here?"  she  asked  the  maid. 

"Yes,  but  she  is  still  in  bed.  I  was  told  to  let  her  sleep 
as  long  as  she  would." 

"Maybe  I  could  sit  here  and  wait,"  said  Mrs.  Com- 
stock. "I  want  to  see  about  getting  her  a  dress  for  to- 
morrow.    I  am  her  mother." 

"Then  you  don't  need  wait  or  worry,"  said  the  girl 
cheerfully.  "There  are  two  women  up  in  the  sewing 
room  at  work  on  a  dress  for  her  right  now.  It  will  be 
done  in  time,  and  it  will  be  a  beauty." 

Mrs.  Comstock  turned  and  trudged  back  to  the  Lim- 
berlost.     The  bitterness  in  her  soul  became  a  physical 


ELNORA  GRADUATES  215 

actuality,  and  water  would  not  wash  the  taste  of  worm- 
wood from  her  lips.  She  was  too  late!  She  was  not 
needed.  Another  woman  was  mothering  her  girl.  An- 
other woman  would  prepare  a  beautiful  dress  such  as 
Elnora  had  worn  last  night.  The  girl's  love  and  grati- 
tude would  go  to  her.  Mrs.  Comstock  tried  the  old 
process  of  blaming  some  one  else,  but  she  felt  no  better. 
She  nursed  her  grief  as  closely  as  ever  in  the  long  days  of 
the  girl's  absence.  She  brooded  over  Elnora's  possession 
of  the  forbidden  violin  and  her  ability  to  play  it  until  the 
performance  could  not  have  been  told  from  her  father's. 
She  tried  every  refuge  her  mind  could  conjure  to  quiet 
her  heart  and  remove  the  fear  that  the  girl  never  would 
come  home  again,  but  it  persisted.  Mrs.  Comstock 
could  neither  eat  nor  sleep.  She  wandered  about  the 
cabin  and  garden.  She  kept  far  from  the  pool  where 
Robert  Comstock  had  sunk  from  sight,  for  she  felt  that 
it  would  entomb  her  also  if  Elnora  did  not  come  home 
Wednesday  morning.  The  mother  told  herself  that  she 
would  wait,  but  the  waiting  was  bitter  as  anything  she 
ever  had  known. 

When  Elnora  awoke  Monday  another  dress  was  in  the 
hands  of  a  seamstress  and  was  soon  fitted.  It  had  be- 
longed to  the  Angel,  and  was  a  soft  white  thing  that  with 
a  little  alteration  would  serve  admirably  for  Commence- 
ment and  the  ball.  All  that  day  Elnora  worked,  helping 
prepare  the  auditorium  for  the  exercises,  rehearsing  the 
march  and  the  speech  she  was  to  make  in  behalf  of  the 
class.     The  next  day  was  even  more  busy.     But  her  mind 


216  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

was  at  rest,  for  the  dress  was  a  soft  delicate  lace,  easy  to 
change,  and  the  marks  of  alteration  impossible  to  detect. 

The  Bird  Woman  had  telephoned  to  Grand  Rapids, 
explained  the  situation  and  asked  the  Angel  if  she  might 
use  it.  The  reply  had  been  to  give  the  girl  all  the  things 
the  chest  contained.  When  the  Bird  Woman  told  Elnora, 
tears  filled  her  eyes. 

"I  will  write  at  once  and  thank  her,"  she  said.  "With 
all  her  beautiful  things  she  does  not  need  them,  and  I  do. 
They  will  serve  for  me  often,  and  be  much  finer  than  any- 
thing I  could  afford.  It  is  lovely  of  her  to  give  me  the 
dress  and  of  you  to  have  it  altered  for  me,  as  I  never 
could." 

The  Bird  Woman  laughed.  "I  feel  quite  religious  to- 
day," she  said.  "You  know  the  first  and  greatest  rock 
of  my  salvation  is  'Do  unto  others.'  I'm  only  doing  to 
you  what  there  was  no  one  to  do  to  me  when  I  was  a  girl 
very  like  you.  Anna  tells  me  your  mother  was  here  early 
this  mornin  and  that  she  came  to  see  about  getting  you 
a  dress." 

"She  is  too  late!"  said  Elnora  coldly.  "She  had  over 
a  month  to  prepare  my  dresses,  and  I  was  to  pay  for  them, 
so  there  is  no  excuse." 

"Nevertheless,  she  is  your  mother,"  said  the  Bird 
Woman,  softly.  "I  think  almost  any  kind  of  a  mother 
must  be  better  than  none  at  all,  and  you  say  she  has  had 
great  trouble." 

"She  loved  my  father,  and  he  died,"  said  Elnora. 
"The  same  thing,  in  quite  as  tragic  a  manner,  has  hap- 


ELNORA  GRADUATES  217 

pened  to  thousands  of  other  women,  and  they  have  gone 
on  with  calm  faces  and  found  happiness  in  life  by  loving 
others.  There  was  something  else  I  am  afraid  I  never 
shall  forget;  this  I  know  I  shall  not,  but  talking  does  not 
help.  I  must  deliver  my  presents  and  photographs  to 
the  crowd.  I  have  a  picture  and  I  made  a  present  for 
you,  too,  if  you  would  care  for  them." 

"I  shall  love  anything  you  give  me,"  said  the  Bird 
Woman.  "  I  know  you  well  enough  to  know  that  what- 
ever you  do  will  be  beautiful." 

Elnora  felt  good  over  that,  and  as  she  tried  on  her  dress 
for  the  last  fitting  she  was  really  happy.  She  looked 
lovely  in  the  dainty  gown;  it  would  serve  finely  for  the 
ball  and  many  other  like  occasions,  and  it  was  her  very 
own. 

The  Bird  Woman's  driver  took  Elnora  in  the  carriage 
and  she  called  on  all  the  girls  with  whom  she  was  espe- 
cially intimate,  and  left  her  picture  and  the  package  con- 
taining her  gift  to  them.  By  the  time  she  returned,  par- 
cels for  her  were  arriving.  Friends  seemed  to  spring 
from  everywhere.  Almost  every  one  she  knew  had  some 
gift  for  her,  while  because  they  so  loved  her  the  members 
of  her  crowd  had  made  her  beautiful  presents.  There 
were  books,  vases,  silver  pieces,  handkerchiefs,  fans, 
boxes  of  flowers  and  candy.  One  big  package  settled  the 
trouble  at  Sintons',  for  it  contained  a  dainty  dress  from 
Margaret,  a  five-dollar  gold  piece,  conspicuously  labelled, 
"I  earned  this  myself,"  from  Billy,  with  which  to  buy 
music;  and  a  gorgeous  cut-glass  perfume  bottle  it  would 


2i8  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

have  cost  five  dollars  to  fill  with  even  a  moderate-priced 
scent,  from  Wesley. 

In  an  expressed  crate  was  a  fine  curly-maple  dressing 
table,  sent  by  Freckles.  The  drawers  were  filled  with 
wonderful  toilet  articles  from  the  Angel.  The  Bird 
Woman  added  an  embroidered  linen  cover  and  a'  small 
silver  vase  for  a  few  flowers,  and  no  girl  of  the  class  had 
finer  gifts.  Elnora  laid  her  head  on  the  table  sobbing 
happily,  and  the  Bird  Woman  was  almost  crying  herself. 
Professor  Henley  sent  an  elegantly  printed  and  illustrated 
butterfly  book;  the  grade  rooms  in  which  Elnora  had 
taught  gave  her  a  set  of  volumes  covering  every  phase  of 
life  afield,  in  the  woods,  and  water.  Elnora  had  no  time 
to  read,  so  she  just  carried  one  of  these  books  around  with 
her,  hugging  it  as  she  went.  After  she  had  gone  to  dress 
a  queer  looking  package  was  brought  by  a  small  boy  who 
hopped  on  one  foot  as  he  handed  it  in  and  said,  "Tell 
Elnora  that  is  from  her  ma." 

"Who  are  you?"  asked  the  Bird  Woman,  as  she  took 
the  bundle. 

"I'm  Billy!"  announced  the  boy.  "I  gave  her  the 
five  dollars.  I  earned  it  myself  dropping  corn,  sticking 
onions,  and  pulling  weeds.  My,  but  you  got  to  drop, 
and  stick,  and  pull  a  lot  before  it's  five  dollars'  worth." 

"Would  you  like  to  come  in  and  see  Elnora's  gifts?" 

"Yes,  ma'ml"  said  Billy,  trying  to  stand  quietly. 

He  followed  into  the  room  and  gazed  around. 

" Gee-mentley ! "  he  gasped.  "  Does  Elnora  get  all  this  ? " 

"Yes." 


ELNORA  GRADUATES  219 

"I  bet  you  a  thousand  dollars  I  be  first  in  my  class 
when  I  graduate.  Say,  have  the  others  got  a  lot  more 
than  Elnora?" 

"I  think  not." 

"Well,  Uncle  Wesley  said  to  find  out  if  I  could,  and  if 
she  didn't  have  as  much  as  the  rest,  he'd  buy  till  she  did, 
if  it  took  a  hundred  dollars.  Say,  you  ought  to  know  him  1 
He's  just  scrumptious!  There  ain't  anybody  anywhere 
finer  'an  he  is.     My,  he's  grand!" 

"I'm  quite  sure  of  it!"  said  the  Bird  Woman.  "I've 
often  heard  Elnora  say  so." 

Billy  strutted  around  the  table  admiringly. 

"I  bet  you  nobody  can  beat  this!"  he  boasted.  Then 
he  stopped,  thinking  deeply.  "I  don't  know,  though," 
he  began  reflectively.  "Some  of  them  are  awful  rich; 
they  got  big  families  to  give  them  things  and  wagon  loads 
of  friends,  and  I  haven't  seen  what  they  got.  Now, 
maybe  Elnora  is  getting  left,  after  all!" 

He  lifted  an  anxious  little  freckled  face  to  the  Bird 
Woman.     She  cleared  her  throat. 

"Don't  worry,  Billy,"  she  said.  "I  will  watch  and  if 
I  find  Elnora  is  'getting  left'  I'll  buy  her  some  more  things 
myself.  But  I'm  sure  she  is  not.  She  has  more  beauti- 
ful gifts  now  than  she  will  know  what  to  do  with,  and 
others  will  come.  Tell  your  Uncle  Wesley  his  girl  is 
bountifully  remembered,  very  happy,  and  she  sends  her 
dearest  love  to  all  of  you.  Now  you  must  go,  so  I  can 
help  her  dress.  You  will  be  there  to-night  to  see  her,  of 
course?" 


220  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Yes,  sir-ee!  She  got  me  a  seat,  third  row  from  the 
front,  middle  section,  so  I  can  see,  and  she's  going  to 
wink  at  me,  after  she  gets  her  speech  off  her  mind.  She 
kissed  me,  too!  She's  a  perfect  lady,  Elnora  is.  I'm 
going  to  marry  her  when  I  get  big  enough." 

"Why,  isn't  that  splendid!"  laughed  the  Bird  Woman 
as  she  hurried  upstairs. 

"Dear!"  she  called.     "Here  is  another  gift  for  you." 

Elnora  was  half  disrobed  as  she  took  the  package  and, 
sitting  on  a  couch,  opened  it.  The  Bird  Woman  bent 
over  her  and  tested  the  fabric  with  her  fingers. 

"Why,  bless  my  soul!"  she  cried.  "Hand- woven, 
hand-embroidered  linen,  fine  as  silk.  It's  priceless!  I 
haven't  seen  such  things  in  years.  My  mother  had  gar- 
ments like  those  when  I  was  a  child,  but  my  sisters  had 
them  cut  up  for  collars,  belts,  and  fancy  waists  while  I 
was  small.  Look  at  the  exquisite  work!" 
/'Where  could  it  have  come  from?"  cried  Elnora. 

She  shook  out  a  petticoat,  with  a  hand-wrought  ruffle 
a  foot  deep,  then  an  old-fashioned  chemise  the  neck  and 
sleeve  work  of  which  was  elaborate  and  perfectly  wrought. 
On  the  breast  was  pinned  a  note  that  she  hastily  opened. 

"I  was  married  in  these,"  it  read,  "and  I  had  intended 
to  be  buried  in  them,  but  perhaps  it  would  be  more  sen- 
sible for  you  to  graduate  and  get  married  in  them  yourself, 
if  you  would  like.     Your  mother." 

"From  my  mother!"  Wide-eyed,  Elnora  looked  at 
the  Bird  Woman.  "I  never  in  my  life  saw  the  like. 
Mother  does  things  I  think  I  never  can  forgive,  and  when 


ELNORA  GRADUATES  221 

I  feel  hardest  she  turns  around  and  does  something  that 
makes  me  think  she  just  must  love  me  a  little  bit,  after 
all.  Any  of  the  girls  would  give  almost  anything  to 
graduate  in  hand-embroidered  linen  like  that.  Money 
can't  buy  such  things.  And  they  came  just  when  I  was 
thinking  she  didn't  care  what  became  of  me.  Do  you 
suppose  she  can  be  insane?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  Bird  Woman.  "Stark,  staring  mad! 
Wildly  insane,  if  she  does  not  love  you  and  care  what  be- 
comes of  you." 

Elnora  arose  and  held  the  petticoat  to  her.  "Will  you 
look  at  it?"  she  cried.  "Only  imagine  her  not  getting 
my  dress  ready,  and  then  turning  around  and  sending  me 
such  a  petticoat  as  this!  Ellen  would  pay  a  hundred 
dollars  for  it  and  never  blink.  I  suppose  mother  has  had 
it  all  my  life,  and  I  never  saw  it  before." 

"Go,  take  your  bath  and  put  on  those  things,"  said  the 
Bird  Woman.  "Forget  everything  and  be  happy.  She 
is  not  insane!  She  is  embittered.  She  did  not  under- 
stand how  things  would  be.  When  she  saw,  she  came  at 
once  to  get  you  a  dress.  This  is  her  way  of  saying  she  is 
sorry  she  did  not  get  the  other.  You  notice  she  has  not 
spent  any  money,  so  perhaps  she  is  quite  honest  in  saying 
she  has  none." 

"Oh,  she  is  honest!"  said  Elnora.  "She  wouldn't  care 
enough  to  tell  an  untruth.  She'd  say  just  how  things  were,, 
no  matter  what  happened." 

Soon  Elnora  was  ready  for  her  dress.  She  never  had 
looked  so  well  as  when  she  again  headed  the  procession 


222  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

across  the  flower  and  palm-decked  stage  of  the  high  school 
auditorium.  As  she  sat  there  she  could  have  reached 
over  and  dropped  a  rose  she  carried  into  the  seat  she  had 
occupied  that  September  morning  four  years  previously 
when  she  entered  the  high  school.  She  spoke  the  few 
words  she  had  to  say  in  behalf  of  her  class  beautifully, 
had  the  tiny  wink  ready  for  Billy,  and  the  smile  and  nod 
of  recognition  for  Wesley  and  Margaret.  When  at  last 
she  looked  into  the  eyes  of  a  white-faced  woman  next  them, 
she  slipped  a  hand  to  her  side  and  raised  her  skirt  the 
fraction  of  an  inch,  just  enough  to  let  the  embroidered 
edge  of  a  petticoat  show  a  trifle.  When  she  saw  the  look 
of  relief  which  flooded  her  mother's  face,  Elnora  knew 
that  forgiveness  was  in  her  heart,  and  that  she  would  go 
home  in  the  morning. 

It  was  late  afternoon  before  she  arrived,  and  a  dray 
followed  with  a  load  of  packages.  Mrs.  Comstock  was 
overwhelmed.  She  sat  half  dazed  and  made  Elnora  show 
her  each  costly  and  beautiful  or  simple  and  useful  gift,  tell 
her  carefully  what  it  was  and  from  where  it  came.  She 
studied  the  faces  of  Elnora's  particular  friends  intently. 
The  gifts  from  them  had  to  be  selected  and  set  in  a  group. 
Several  times  she  started  to  speak  and  then  stopped.  At 
last,  between  her  dry  lips,  came  a  harsh  whisper. 

"Elnora,  what  did  you  give  back  for  these  things?" 
"I'll  show  you,"  said  Elnora  cheerfully.     "I  got  the 
same  thing  for  the  Bird  Woman,  Aunt  Margaret    and 
you,  if  you  care  for  it.     But  I  have  to  run  upstairs  to  get 
it." 


ELNORA  GRADUATES  223 

When  she  returned  she  handed  her  mother  an  oblong 
frame,  hand-carved,  enclosing  Elnora's  picture,  taken  by 
a  schoolmate's  camera.  She  wore  her  storm-coat  and 
carried  a  dripping  umbrella.  From  under  it  looked  her 
bright  face;  her  books  and  lunch  box  were  on  her  arm, 
and  across  the  bottom  of  the  frame  was  carved,  "Your 
Country  Classmate." 

Then  she  offered  another  frame. 

"I  am  strong  on  frames,"  she  said.  "They  seemed  to 
be  the  best  I  could  do  without  money.  I  located  the 
maple  and  the  black  walnut  myself,  in  a  little  corner  that 
had  been  overlooked  between  the  river  and  the  ditch. 
They  didn't  seemto  be  long  to  any  one,  so  I  just  took  them. 
Uncle  Wesley  said  it  was  all  right,  and  he  cut  and  hauled 
them  for  me.  I  gave  the  mill  half  of  each  tree  for  sawing 
and  curing  the  remainder.  Then  I  gave  the  wood-carver 
half  of  that  for  making  my  frames.  A  photographer  gave 
me  a  lot  of  spoiled  plates,  and  I  boiled  off  the  emulsion, 
and  took  the  specimens  I  framed  from  my  stuff.  The 
man  said  the  white  frames  were  worth  three  and  a  half, 
and  the  black  ones  five.  I  exchanged  those  little  framed 
pictures  for  the  photographs  of  the  others.  For  presents, 
I  gave  each  one  of  my  crowd  one  like  this,  only  a  different 
moth.  The  Bird  Woman  gave  me  the  birch  bark.  She 
got  it  up  north  last  summer." 

Elnora  handed  her  mother  a  handsome  black-walnut 
frame  a  foot  and  a  half  wide  by  two  long.  It  finished  a 
small  shallow  glass-covered  box  of  birch  bark,  to  the  bot- 
tom of  which  clung  a  big  night  moth  with  delicate  pale 


224  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

green  wings  and  long  exquisite  trailers.  A  more  beauti- 
ful thing  would  have  been  difficult  to  imagine. 

"So  you  see  I  did  not  have  to  be  ashamed  of  my 
gifts,"  said  Elnora.  "I  made  them  myself  and  raised  and 
mounted  the  moths." 

"Moth,  you  call  it,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I've  seen 
a  few  of  the  things  before." 

"They  are  thick  around  us  every  June  night,  or  at  least 
they  used  to  be,"  said  Elnora.  "I've  sold  hundreds 
of  them  with  butterflies,  dragon-flies  and  other  specimens. 
Now,  I  must  put  away  these  and  get  to  work,  for  it  is 
almost  June  and  there  are  a  few  more  I  want  dreadfully. 
When  I  get  them  I  will  be  paid  some  money  for  which 
I  have  worked  a  long  time." 

She  was  afraid  to  say  college  just  then.  She  thought 
it  would  be  better  to  wait  a  few  days  and  see  if  an  oppor- 
tunity would  not  come  when  it  would  work  in  more 
naturally.  Besides,  unless  she  could  secure  the  Yellow 
Emperor  she  needed  to  complete  her  collection,  she  could 
not  talk  college  until  she  was  of  age,  for  she  would  have  no 
money. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Wherein  Margaret  Sinton  Reveals  a  Secret,  and 
Mrs.  Comstock  Possesses  the  Limberlost 

"Elnora,  bring  me  the  towel,  quick!"  cried  Mrs. 
Comstock. 

"In  a  minute,  mother,"  mumbled  Elnora. 

She  was  standing  before  the  kitchen  mirror,  tying  the 
back  part  of  her  hair,  while  the  front  turned  over  her  face. 

"Hurry!     There's  a  varmint  of  some  kind!" 

Elnora  ran  into  the  sitting  room  and  thrust  the  heavy 
kitchen  towel  into  her  mother's  hand.  Mrs.  Comstock 
swung  open  the  screen  door  and  struck  at  some  object. 
Elnora  tossed  the  hair  from  her  face  so  that  she  could  see 
past  her  mother.     The  girl  screamed  wildly. 

"Don't!  Mother,  don't!" 

Mrs.  Comstock  struck  again.     Elnora  caught  her  arm. 

"It's  the  one  I  want!  It's  worth  a  lot  of  money! 
Don't!     Oh,  you  shall  not!" 

"Shan't,  missy?"  blazed  Mrs.  Comstock.  "When  did 
you  get  to  bossing  me?" 

The  hand  that  held  the  screen  swept  a  half-circle  and 
stopped  at  Elnora's  cheek.  She  staggered  with  the  blow, 
and  across  her  face,  paled  with  excitement,  a  red  mark 

225 


226  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Jose  rapidly.  The  screen  slammed  shut,  throwing  the 
creature  on  the  floor  before  them.  Instantly  Mrs.  Com- 
stock's  foot  crushed  it.  Elnora  stepped  back.  Except- 
ing the  red  mark,  her  face  was  very  white. 

"That  was  the  last  moth  I  needed,"  she  said,  "to  com- 
plete a  collection  worth  three  hundred  dollars.  You've 
ruined  it  before  my  eyes ! " 

"Moth!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "You  say  that  be- 
cause you  are  mad.  Moths  have  big  wings.  I  know  a 
moth!" 

"I've  kept  things  from  you,"  said  Elnora,  "because  I 
didn't  dare  confide  in  you.  You  had  no  sympathy  with 
me.  But  you  know  I  never  told  you  untruths  in  all  my 
life." 

"It's  no  moth!"  reiterated  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"It  is!"  cried  Elnora.  "It's  just  out  of  a  case  in  the 
ground.  Its  wings  take  two  or  three  hours  to  expand 
and  harden." 

"  If  I  had  known  it  was  a  moth "     Mrs.  Comstock 

wavered. 

"You  did  know!  I  told  you!  I  begged  you  to  stop! 
It  meant  just  three  hundred  dollars  to  me." 

"Bah!  Three  hundred  fiddlesticks!"  sneered  Mrs. 
Comstock. 

"They  are  what  have  paid  for  books,  tuition,  and 
clothes  for  the  last  four  years.  They  are  what  I  could 
have  started  on  to  college.  You've  crushed  the  last  one 
I  needed  before  my  face.  You  never  have  made  any 
pretence  of  loving  me.     At  last  I'll  be  equally  frank  with 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    227 

you.  I  hate  you!  You  are  a  selfish,  wicked  woman!  I 
hate  you ! " 

Elnora  turned,  went  through  the  kitchen  and  out  the 
back  door.  She  followed  the  garden  path  to  the  gate  and 
walked  toward  the  swamp  a  short  distance  when  reaction 
overtook  her.  She  dropped  on  the  ground  and  leaned 
against  a  big  log.  When  a  little  child,  desperate  as  now, 
she  had  tried  to  die  by  holding  her  breath.  She  had 
thought  in  that  way  to  make  her  mother  sorry,  but  she 
had  learned  that  life  was  a  thing  thrust  upon  her  and 
death  would  not  come  at  her  wish. 

She  was  so  crushed  over  the  loss  of  that  moth,  which 
she  had  childishly  named  the  Yellow  Emperor,. that  she 
scarcely  remembered  the  blow.  She  had  thought  no  luck 
in  all  the  world  would  be  so  rare  as  to  complete  her  col- 
lection, and  she  just  had  been  forced  to  see  a  splendid 
Imperialis  crushed  to  a  mass  before  her.  There  was  a 
possibility  that  she  could  find  another,  but  now  she  was 
facing  the  certainty  that  the  one  she  might  have  had  and 
with  which  she  undoubtedly  could  have  attracted  others, 
was  ruined  —  by  her  mother.  How  long  she  sat  there 
Elnora  did  not  know  or  care.  She  simply  suffered  in 
dumb,  abject  misery,  an  occasional  dry  sob  shaking  her. 
Aunt  Margaret  was  right.  Elnora  felt  that  morning.that 
her  mother  never  would  be  any  different.  The  girl  had 
reached  the  place  where  she  realized  that  she  could  bear  it 
no  longer. 

As  Elnora  left  the  room,  Mrs.  Comstock  took  one  step 
after  her. 


228  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"You  little  huzzy!"  she  gasped. 

But  Elnora  was  gone.     Her  mother  stood  staring. 

"She  never  did  lie  to  me,"  she  muttered.  "I  guess  it 
was  a  moth.  And  the  only  one  she  needed  to  get  three 
hundred  dollars,  she  said.  I  wish  I  hadn't  been  so  fast! 
I  never  saw  anything  like  it.  I  thought  it  was  some 
deadly,  stinging,  biting  thing.  A  body  does  have  to  be 
mighty  careful  here.  But  likely  I've  spilt  the  milk  now. 
Pshaw!  She  can  find  another!  There's  no  use  to  be 
foolish.  Maybe  moths  are  like  snakes,  where  there's 
one,  there's  two." 

Mrs.  Comstock  took  the  broom  and  swept  the  moth 
out  of  the  door.  Then  she  got  down  on  her  knees  and 
carefully  examined  the  steps,  logs  and  the  earth  of  the 
flower  beds  at  each  side.  She  found  the  place  where  the 
creature  had  emerged  from  the  ground,  and  the  hard,  dark 
brown  case  which  had  enclosed  it,  still  wet  inside.  Then 
she  knew  Elnora  had  been  right.  It  was  a  moth.  Its 
wings  had  been  damp  and  not  expanded.  Mrs.  Comstock 
never  before  had  seen  one  in  that  state,  and  she  did  not 
know  how  they  originated.  She  had  thought  all  of  them 
came  from  cases  spun  on  trees  or  against  walls  or  boards. 
She  only  had  seen  enough  to  know  that  there  were  such 
things,  just  as  a  flash  of  white  told  her  that  an  ermine  was 
on  her  premises,  or  a  sharp  "buzzzzz"  warned  her  of  a 
rattler. 

So  it  was  from  creatures  like  that  Elnora  had  gotten 
her  school  money.  In  one  sickening  sweep  there  rushed 
into  the  heart  of  the  woman  a  full  realization  of  the  width 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    229 

of  the  gulf  which  separated  her  from  her  child.  Lately- 
many  things  had  pointed  toward  it,  none  more  plainly 
than  when  EInora,  like  a  reincarnation  of  her  father,  had 
stood  fearlessly  before  a  large  city  audience  and  played 
with  even  greater  skill  than  he,  on  what  Mrs.  Comstock 
felt  very  certain,  was  his  violin.  But  that  little  crawling 
creature  of  earth,  crushed  by  her  before  its  splendid  yel- 
low and  lavender  wings  could  spread  and  carry  it  into  the 
mystery  of  night,  had  brought  a  realizing  sense. 

"We  are  nearer  strangers  with  each  other  than  we  are 
with  any  of  the  neighbours,"  she  muttered. 

So  one  of  the  Almighty's  most  delicate  and  beautiful 
creations  was  sacrificed  without  fulfilling  the  law,  yet 
none  of  its  species  ever  served  so  glorious  a  cause,  for  at 
last  Mrs.  Comstock's  inner  vision  had  cleared.  She 
went  through  the  cabin  mechanically.  Every  few  min- 
utes she  glanced  toward  the  back  walk  to  see  if  EInora  was 
coming.  She  knew  arrangements  had  been  made  with 
Margaret  to  go  to  the  city  some  time  that  day,  so  she 
grew  more  nervous  and  uneasy  every  moment  She  was 
haunted  by  the  fear  that  the  blow  might  discolour  Elnora's 
cheek,  and  that  she  would  tell  Margaret.  She  went  down 
the  back  walk,  looking  intently  in  all  directions,  left  the 
garden  and  took  the  swamp  path.  Her  step  was  noise- 
less on  the  soft,  black  earth,  and  soon  she  came  near 
enough  to  see  EInora.  Mrs.  Comstock  stood  looking  at 
the  girl  in  troubled  uncertainty.  Not  knowing  what  to 
say,  at  last  she  turned  and  went  back  to  the  cabin. 

Noon  came  and  she  prepared  dinner,  calling,  as  she 


230  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

always  did,  when  Elnora  was  in  the  garden,  but  she  got 
no  response,  and  the  girl  did  not  come.  A  little  after  one 
o'clock  Margaret  stopped  at  the  gate. 

"Elnora  has  changed  her  mind.  She  is  not  going," 
called  Mrs.  Comstock. 

She  felt  that  she  hated  Margaret  as  she  hitched  her 
horse  and  came  up  the  walk  instead  of  driving  on. 

"You  must  be  mistaken,"  said  Margaret.  "  I  was  going 
on  purpose  for  her.  She  asked  me  to  take  her.  I  had  no 
errand.     Where  is  she?" 

"I  will  call  her,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 

She  followed  the  path  again,  and  this  time  found  Elnora 
sitting  on  the  log.  Her  face  was  swollen  and  discoloured, 
and  her  eyes  red  with  crying.  She  paid  no  attention  to 
her  mother. 

"Mag  Sinton  is  here,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock  harshly. 
"  I  told  her  you  had  changed  your  mind,  but  she  said  you 
asked  her  to  go  with  you,  and  she  had  nothing  to  go  for 
herself." 

Elnora  rose,  recklessly  took  a  short  cut  through  the 
deep  swamp  grasses  and  so  reached  the  path  ahead  of  her 
mother.  Mrs.  Comstock  followed  as  far  as  the  garden, 
but  she  could  not  enter  the  cabin.  She  busied  her- 
self among  the  vegetables,  barely  looking  up  when  the 
back  door  screen  slammed  noisily.  Margaret  Sinton 
approached  colourless,  and  with  such  flaming  eyes  that 
Mrs.  Comstock  shrank  back. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Elnora's  face?"  demanded^ 
Margaret. 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET         231 

Mrs.  Comstock  made  no  reply. 

"You  struck  her,  did  you?" 

"I  thought  you  wasn't  blind!" 

"I  have  been,  for  twenty  long  years  now,  Kate  Com- 
stock," said  Margaret  Sinton,  "but  my  eyes  are  open  at 
last.  What  I  see  is  that  I've  done  you  no  good  and 
Elnora  a  big  wrong.  I  had  an  idea  that  it  would  kill  you 
to  know,  but  I  guess  you  are  tough  enough  to  stand  any- 
thing.    Kill  or  cure,  you  get  it  now ! " 

"What  are  you  frothing  about?"  coolly  asked  Mrs. 
Comstock. 

"You!"  cried  Margaret.  "You!  The  woman  who 
don't  pretend  to  love  her  only  child.  Who  lets  her  grow 
to  a  woman,  as  you  have  let  Elnora,  and  can't  be  satisfied 
with  every  sort  of  neglect,  but  must  add  abuse  yet;  and 
all  for  a  fool  idea  about  a  man  who  wasn't  worth  his  salt!" 

Mrs.  Comstock  picked  up  a  hoe. 

"Go  right  on!"  she  said.  "Empty  yourself.  It's  the 
last  thing  you'll  ever  do!" 

"Then  I'll  make  a  tidy  job  of  it,"  said  Margaret. 
"You'll  not  touch  me.  You'll  stand  there  and  hear  the 
truth  at  last,  and  because  I  dare  face  you  and  tell  it,  you 
will  know  in  your  soul  it  is  truth.  When  Robert  Com- 
stock shaved  that  quagmire  out  there  so  close  he  went  in, 
he  wanted  to  keep  you  from  seeing  where  he  was  coming 
from.  He'd  been  to  see  Elvira  Carney.  They  had  plans 
to  go  to  a  dance  that  night " 

"Close  your  lips!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock  in  a  voice  of 
deadly  quiet. 


232  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"You  know  I  wouldn't  dare  open  them  if  I  was  not 
telling  you  the  truth.  I  can  prove  what  I  say.  I  was 
coming  from  Reeds.  It  was  hot  in  the  woods  and  I 
stopped  at  Carney's  as  I  passed  for  a  drink.  Elvira's 
bedridden  old  mother  heard  me,  and  she  was  so  crazy  for 
some  one  to  talk  with,  I  stepped  in  a  minute.  I  saw 
Robert  come  down  the  path.  Elvira  saw  him,  too,  and 
she  ran  out  of  the  house  to  head  him  off.  It  looked  funny, 
and  I  just  deliberately  moved  where  I  could  see  and  hear. 
He  brought  her  his  violin,  and  told  her  to  get  ready  and 
meet  him  in  the  woods  with  it  that  night,  and  they  would 
go  to  a  dance.  She  took  it  and  hid  it  in  the  little  loft  to 
the  well-house  and  promised  she'd  go." 

"Are  you  done?"  demanded  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"No.  I  am  going  to  tell  you  the  whole  story.  You 
don't  spare  Elnora  anything.  I  shan't  spare  you.  I 
hadn't  been  here  that  day,  but  I  can  tell  you  just  how  he 
was  dressed,  which  way  he  went  and  every  word  they  said, 
though  they  thought  I  was  busy  with  her  mother  and 
wouldn't  notice  them.  Put  down  your  hoe,  Kate.  I 
went  to  Elvira,  told  her  what  I  knew  and  made  her  give 
me  Comstock's  violin  for  Elnora  over  three  years  ago. 
She's  been  playing  it  ever  since.  I  won't  see  her  slighted 
and  abused  another  day  on  account  of  a  man  who  would 
have  broken  your  heart  if  he  had  lived.  Six  months 
more  would  have  showed  you  what  everybody  else  knew. 
He  was  one  of  those  men  who  couldn't  trust  himself,  and 
so  n©  woman  was  safe  with  him.  Now,  will  you  drop 
grieving  over  him,  and  do  Elnora  justice?" 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET        233 

Mrs.  Comstock  gripped  the  hoe  tighter  and  turning 
she  went  down  the  walk,  and  started  across  the  woods  to 
the  home  of  Elvira  Carney.  With  averted  head  she 
passed  the  pool,  steadily  pursuing  her  way.  Elvira 
Carney,  hanging  towels  across  the  back  fence,  saw  her 
coming  and  went  toward  the  gate  to  meet  her.  Twenty 
years  she  had  dreaded  that  visit.  Since  Margaret  Sinton 
had  compelled  her  to  produce  the  violin  she  had  hidden 
so  long,  because  she  was  afraid  to  destroy  it,  she  had  come 
more  near  expectation  than  dread.  The  wages  of  sin  are 
the  hardest  debts  on  earth  to  pay,  and  they  are  always 
collected  at  inconvenient  times  and  unexpected  places. 
Mrs.  Comstock's  face  and  hair  were  so  white  that  her 
dark  eyes  seemed  burned  into  their  setting.  Silently  she 
stared  at  the  woman  before  her  a  long  time. 

"I  might  have  saved  myself  the  trouble  of  coming,', 
she  said  at  last,  "I  see  you  are  guilty  as  sin!" 

"What  has  Mag  Sinton  been  telling  you?"  panted  the 
miserable  woman,  gripping  the  fence. 

"The  truth!"  answered  Mrs.  Comstock  succinctly. 
"Guilt  is  in  every  line  of  your  face,  in  your  eyes,  all  over 
your  wretched  body.  If  I'd  taken  a  good  look  at  you  any 
time  in  all  these  past  years,  no  doubt  I  could  have  seen 
it  just  as  plain  as  I  can  now.  No  woman  or  man  can  do 
what  you've  done,  and  not  get  a  mark  set  on  them  for 
every  one  to  read." 

"Mercy!"  gasped  weak  little  Elvira  Carney.  "Have 
mercy!" 

"Mercy?"  scoffed  Mrs.  Comstock.     "Mercy!     That's 


234  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

a  nice  word  from  you !  How  much  mercy  did  you  have  on 
me?  Where's  the  mercy  that  sent  Comstock  to  the  slime 
of  the  bottomless  quagmire,  and  left  me  to  see  it,  and  then 
struggle  on  in  agony  all  these  years?  How  about  the 
mercy  of  letting  me  allow  my  baby  to  be  neglected  all  the 
days  of  her  life?  Mercy!  Do  you  really  dare  use  the 
word  to  me?" 

"If  you  knew  what  I've  suffered!" 

"Suffered?"  jeered  Mrs.  Comstock.  "That's  inter- 
esting.    And  pray,  what  have  you  suffered?" 

"All  the  neighbours  have  suspected  and  been  down  on 
me.  I  ain't  had  a  friend.  I've  always  felt  guilty  of  his 
death!  I've  seen  him  go  down  a  thousand  times,  plain 
as  ever  you  did.  Many's  the  night  I've  stood  on  the  other 
bank  of  that  pool  and  listened  to  you,  and  I  tried  to  throw 
myself  in  to  keep  from  hearing  you,  but  I  didn't  dare.  I 
knew  God  would  send  me  to  burn  forever,  but  I'd  better 
done  it;  for  now  He  has  set  the  burning  on  my  body,  and 
every  hour  it  is  slowly  eating  the  life  out  of  me.  The  doc- 
tor says  it's  a  cancer " 

Mrs.  Comstock  exhaled  a  long  breath.  Her  grip  on 
the  hoe  relaxed  and  her  stature  lifted  to  towering 
height. 

"I  didn't  know,  or  care,  when  I  came  here,  just  what  I 
did,"  she  said.  "But  my  way  is  beginning  to  clear.  If 
the  guilt  of  your  soul  has  come  to  a  head,  in  a  cancer  on 
your  body,  it  looks  as  if  the  Almighty  didn't  need  any  of 
my  help  in  meting  out  His  punishments.  I  really  couldn't 
fix  up  anything  to  come  anywhere  near  that.     If  you  are 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    235 

going  to  burn  until  your  life  goes  out  with  that  sort  of 
fire,  you  don't  owe  me  anything!" 

"Oh,  Katharine  Comstock!"  groaned  Elvira  Carney, 
clinging  to  the  fence  for  support. 

"Looks  as  if  the  Bible  is  right  when  it  says,  'The  wages 
of  sin  is  death,'  don't  it?"  asked  Mrs.  Comstock.  "In- 
stead of  doing  a  woman's  work  in  life,  you  chose  the  smile 
of  invitation,  and  the  dress  of  unearned  cloth.  Now  you 
tell  me  you  are  marked  to  burn  to  death  with  the  un- 
quenchable fire.  And  him!  It  was  shorter  with  him, 
but  let  me  tell  you  he  got  his  share!  He  left  me  with  an 
untruth  on  his  lips,  for  he  told  me  he  was  going  to  take 
his  violin  to  Onabasha  for  a  new  key,  when  he  carried  it 
to  you.  Every  vow  of  love  and  constancy  he  ever  made 
me  was  a  lie,  after  he  touched  your  lips,  so  when  he  tried 
the  wrong  side  of  the  quagmire,  to  hide  from  me  the  direc- 
tion in  which  he  was  coming,  it  reached  out  for  him,  and  it 
got  him.  It  didn't  hurry,  either!  It  just  sucked  him 
down,  slow  and  deliberate." 

"Mercy!"  groaned  Elvira  Carney.     "Mercy!" 

"I  don't  know  the  word,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "You 
took  all  that  out  of  me  long  ago.  The  last  twenty  years 
haven't  been  of  the  sort  that  taught  mercy.  I've  never 
had  any  on  myself  and  none  on  my  child.  Why,  in  the 
name  of  justice,  should  I  have  mercy  on  you,  or  on  him? 
You  were  both  older  than  me,  both  strong,  sane  people. 
You  deliberately  chose  your  course  when  you  lured  him, 
and  he,  when  he  was  unfaithful  to  me.  When  a  Loose 
Man  and  a  Light  Woman  face  the  death  the  Almighty 


236  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

ordained  for  them,  why  should  they  shout  at  me  for  mercy? 
What  did  I  have  to  do  with  it?" 

Elvira  Carney  sobbed  in  panting  gasps. 

"You've  got  tears,  have  you?"  marvelled  Mrs.  Corn- 
stock.  "Mine  all  dried  long  ago.  I've  none  left  to  shed 
over  my  wasted  life,  my  disfigured  face  and  hair,  my  years 
of  struggle  with  a  man's  work,  my  wreck  of  land  among 
the  tilled  fields  of  my  neighbours,  or  the  final  knowledge 
that  the  man  I  so  gladly  would  have  died  to  save  wasn't 
worth  the  sacrifice  of  a  rattlesnake.  If  anything  yet 
could  wring  a  tear  from  me,  it  would  be  the  thought  of  the 
awful  injustice  I  always  have  done  my  girl.  If  I'd  lay 
hand  on  you  for  anything,  it  would  be  for  that." 

"Kill  me  if  you  want  to,"  sobbed  Elvira  Carney. 
"I  know  that  I  deserve  it,  and  I  don't  care." 

"You  are  getting  your  killing  fast  enough  to  suit  me," 
said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I  wouldn't  touch  you,  any  more 
than  I  would  him,  if  I  could.  Once  is  all  any  man  or 
woman  deceives  me  about  the  holiest  things  of  life. 
I  wouldn't  touch  you  any  more  than  I  would  the  black 
plague.     I  am  going  back  to  my  girl." 

Mrs.  Comstock  turned  and  started  swiftly  through  the 
woods,  but  she  had  gone  only  a  few  rods  when  she 
stopped,  and  leaning  on  the  hoe,  she  stood  thinking 
deeply.  Then  she  turned  back.  Elvira  still  clung  to  the 
fence,  sobbing  bitterly. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock,  "but  I  left  a 

-  wrong  impression  with  you.     I  don't  want  you  to  think 

that  I  believe  the  Almighty  set  a  cancer  to  burning  you 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    237 

as  a  punishment  for  your  sins.  I  don't!  I  think  a  lot 
more  of  the  Almighty.  With  a  whole  sky  full  of  worlds 
on  His  hands  to  manage,  I'm  not  believing  that  He  has 
time  to  look  down  on  ours,  and  pick  you  out  of  all  the 
millions  of  we  sinners,  and  set  a  special  kind  of  torture 
to  eating  you.  It  wouldn't  be  a  gentlemanly  thing  to  do, 
and,  first  of  all,  the  Almighty  is  bound  to  be  a  gentle- 
man. I  think  likely  a  bruise  and  bad  blood  is  what 
caused  your  trouble.  Anyway,  I've  got  to  tell  you  that 
the  cleanest  housekeeper  I  ever  knew,  and  one  of  the 
noblest  Christian  women,  was  slowly  eaten  up  by  a  can- 
cel* She  got  hers  from  the  careless  work  of  a  poor  doctor. 
The  Almighty  is  to  forgive  sin  and  heal  disease,  not  to 
invent  and  spread  it." 

She  had  gone  only  a  few  steps  when  she  again  turned 
back. 

"If  you  will  gather  a  lot  of  red  clover  bloom,  make  a 
tea  strong  as  lye  of  it,  and  drink  quarts,  I  think  likely  it 
will  help  you,  if  you  are  not  too  far  gone.  Anyway,  it 
will  cool  your  blood  and  make  the  burning  easier  to  bear." 

Then  she  swiftly  walked  home.  Enter  the  lonely 
cabin  she  could  not,  neither  could  she  sit  outside  and 
think.  She  attacked  a  bed  of  beets  and  hoed  until  the 
perspiration  ran  from  her  face  and  body,  then  she  began 
on  the  potatoes.  When  she  was  too  tired  to  take  another 
stroke  she  bathed  and  put  on  dry  clothing.  In  securing 
her  dress  she  noticed  her  husband's  carefully  preserved 
clothing  lining  one  wall.  She  gathered  it  in  a  great  arm- 
load and  carried  it  out  to  the  swamp.     Piece  by  piece 


238  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

she  pitched  into  the  green  maw  of  the  quagmire  all  those 
articles  she  had  dusted  carefully  and  fought  moths  from 
for  years,  and  stood  watching  as  it  slowly  sucked  them 
down.  She  went  back  to  her  room  and  gathered  every 
scrap  that  had  in  any  way  belonged  to  Robert  Comstock, 
excepting  his  gun  and  revolver,  and  threw  it  into  the 
swamp.  Then  for  the  first  time  she  set  her  door  wide 
open. 

She  was  too  weary  now  to  do  more,  but  an  urging  un- 
rest drove  her.  She  wanted  Elnora.  It  seemed  to  her 
she  never  could  wait  until  the  girl  came  and  delivered  her 
judgment.  At  last  in  an  effort  to  get  nearer  to  her,  Mrs. 
Comstock  climbed  the  stairs  and  stood  looking  around 
Elnora's  room.  It  was  very  unfamiliar.  The  pictures 
were  strange  to  her.  Commencement  had  filled  it  with 
packages  and  bundles.  The  walls  were  covered  with 
cocoons;  moths  and  dragon-flies  were  pinned  about. 
Under  the  bed  she  could  see  a  half-dozen  large  white 
boxes.  She  did  not  know  what  they  contained.  She 
pulled  out  one  and  lifted  the  lid.  The  bottom  was  cov- 
ered with  a  sheet  of  thin  cork,  and  on  long  pins  sticking 
in  it  were  dozens  of  great,  velvet-winged  moths.  Each 
one  was  labelled,  always  there  were  two  of  a  kind,  in  many 
cases  four,  showing  under  and  upper  wings  of  both  male 
and  female.     They  were  of  every  colour  and  shape. 

Mrs.  Comstock  caught  her  breath  sharply.  When  and 
where  had  Elnora  gotten  all  of  them?  They  were  the 
most  exquisite  sight  the  woman  ever  had  seen,  so  she 
opened  all  the  boxes  to  feast  on  their  beautiful  contents. 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET        239 

As  she  did  so  there  came  more  fully  a  sense  of  the  distance 
between  her  and  her  child.  She  could  not  understand 
how  Elnora  had  gone  to  school,  and  performed  all  this 
work  secretly.  When  it  was  finished,  up  to  the  very  last 
moth,  she,  the  mother  who  should  have  been  the  first  con- 
fidant and  helper,  had  been  the  one  to  bring  disappoint- 
ment.    Small  wonder  Elnora  had  come  to  hate  her. 

Mrs.  Comstock  carefully  closed  and  replaced  the  boxes, 
and  again  stood  looking  around  the  room.  This  time  her 
eyes  rested  on  some  books  she  did  not  remember  having 
seen  before,  so  she  picked  up  one  and  found  that  it  was  a 
moth  book.  She  glanced  over  the  first  pages  and  was 
soon  eagerly  reading.  When  the  text  reached  the  classi- 
fication of  species,  she  laid  it  down,  took  up  another  and 
read  its  introductory  chapters.  Then  she  found  some 
papers  and  studied  them.  By  that  time  her  brain  was  in 
a  confused  jumble  of  ideas  about  capturing  moths  with 
differing  baits  and  bright  lights. 

She  went  downstairs  thinking  deeply.  Being  unable 
to  sit  still  and  having  nothing  else  to  do  she  glanced  at 
the  clock  and  began  preparing  supper.  The  work  dragged. 
A  chicken  was  snatched  up  and  dressed  hurriedly  A 
spice  cake  sprang  into  being  in  short  order.  Straw- 
berries that  had  been  intended  for  preserves  went  into 
shortcake.  Delicious  odours  crept  from  the  cabin.  She 
put  many  extra  touches  on  the  table  and  then  commenced 
watching  the  road.  Everything  was  ready,  but  Elnora 
did  not  come.  Then  began  the  anxious  process  of  trying 
to  keep  cooked  food  warm  and  not  spoil  it.     The  birds 


24o  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

went  to  bed  and  dusk  came.  Mrs.  Comstock  gave  up  the 
fire  and  set  the  supper  on  the  table.  Then  she  went  out 
and  sat  on  the  front  door-step  watching  night  creep  all 
around  her.  She  started  eagerly  as  the  gate  creaked^  but 
it  was  only  Wesley  Sinton  coming  down  the  walk. 

"Katharine,  Margaret  and  Elnora  passed  where  I  was 
working  this  afternoon,  and  Margaret  got  out  of  the  car- 
riage and  called  me  to  the  fence.  She  told  me  what  she 
had  done.  I've  come  to  say  to  you  that  I  am  sorry. 
She  has  heard  me  threaten  to  do  it  a  good  many  times, 
but  I  never  would  have  got  it  done.  I'd  give  a  good  deal 
if  I  could  undo  it,  but  I  can't,  so  I've  come  to  tell  you  how 
sorry  I  am." 

"You've  got  something  to  be  sorry  for,"  said  Mrs.  Com- 
stock, "but  likely  we  ain't  thinking  of  the  same  thing.  It 
hurts  me  less  to  know  the  truth  than  to  live  in  ignorance. 
If  Mag  had  the  sense  of  a  pewee,  she'd  told  me  long  ago. 
That's  what  hurts  me,  to  think  that  both  of  you  knew 
Robert  was  not  worth  an  hour  of  honest  grief,  yet  you'd 
let  me  mourn  him  all  these  years  and  neglect  Elnora  while 
I  did  it.  If  I  have  anything  to  forgive  you,  that  is  what 
it  is." 

Sinton  took  off  his  hat  and  sat  on  a  bench. 

"Katharine,"  he  said  solemnly,  "nobody  ever  knows 
how  to  take  you." 

"Would  it  be  asking  too  much  to  take  me  for  having  a 
few  grains  of  plain  common  sense? "  she  inquired.  "You've 
known  all  this  time  that  Comstock  got  what  he  deserved 
when  he  undertook  to  sneak  in  an  unused  way  across  a 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET  241 

swamp  with  which  he  was  none  too  familiar.  Now  I 
should  have  thought  that  you'd  figure  that  knowing  the 
same  thing  would  be  the  best  method  to  cure  me  of  pin- 
ing for  him,  and  slighting  my  child." 

"Heaven  only  knows  we  have  thought  of  that,  and 
talked  of  it  often,  but  we  were  both  too  big  cowards. 
We  didn't  dare  tell  you." 

"So  you  have  gone  on  year  after  year,  watching  me 
show  indifference  to  Elnora,  and  yet  a  little  horse-sense 
would  have  pointed  out  to  you  that  she  was  my  salvation. 
Why,  look  at  it!  Not  married  quite  a  year.  All  his  vows 
of  love  and  fidelity  made  to  me  before  the  Almighty  for- 
gotten in  a  few  months,  and  a  dance  and  a  Light  Woman 
so  alluring  he  had  to  lie  and  sneak  for  them.  Wliat 
kind  of  a  prospect  is  that  for  a  life?  I  know  men  and 
women.  An  honourable  man  is  an  honourable  man,  and 
a  liar  is  a  liar;  both  are  born  and  not  made.  One  cannot 
change  to  the  other  any  more  than  that  same  old  leopard 
can  change  its  spots.  After  a  man  tells  a  woman  the 
first  untruth  of  that  sort,  the  others  come  piling  thick, 
fast,  and  mountain  high.  The  desolation  they  bring  in 
their  wake  overshadows  anything  I  have  suffered  com- 
pletely. If  he  had  lived  six  months  more  I  should  have 
known  him  for  what  he  was  born  to  be.  It  was  in  the 
blood  of  him.  His  father  and  grandfather  before  him 
were  fiddling,  dancing  people;  but  I  was  certain  of  him. 
I  thought  we  could  leave  Ohio  and  come  out  here  alone, 
and  I  could  so  love  him  and  interest  him  in  his  work  that 
he  would  be  a  man.     Of  all  the  fool,  fruitless  jobs,  making 


242  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

anything  of  a  creature  that  begins  by  deceiving  her,  is 
the  foolest  a  sane  woman  ever  undertook.  I  am  more 
than  sorry  you  and  Margaret  didn't  see  your  way  clear 
to  tell  me  long  ago.  I'd  have  found  it  out  in  a  few  more 
months  if  he  had  lived,  and  I  wouldn't  have  borne  it  a 
day.  The  man  who  breaks  his  vows  to  me  once,  don't  get 
the  second  chance.  I  give  truth  and  honour.  I  have  a 
right  to  ask  it  in  return.  I  am  glad  I  understand  at 
last.  Now,  if  Elnora  will  forgive  me,  we  will  take  a  new 
start  and  see  what  we  can  make  out  of  what  is  left  of  life. 
If  she  won't,  then  it  will  be  my  time  to  learn  what  suf- 
fering really  means." 

"But  she  will,"  said  Sinton.  "She  must!  She  can't 
help  it  when  things  are  explained.  Don't  you  worry 
over  her." 

"I  notice  she  isn't  hurrying  about  coming  home.  Do 
you  know  where  she  is  or  what  she  is  doing?" 

"I  do  not.  But  likely  she  will  be  along  soon.  I  must 
go  help  Billy  with  the  night  work.  Good-bye,  Kath- 
arine. Thank  the  Lord  you  have  come  to  yourself  at 
last!" 

They  shook  hands  and  Sinton  went  down  the  road 
while  Mrs.  Comstock  entered  the  cabin.  She  went  to 
the  supper  table,  but  she  could  not  swallow  food.  She 
stood  in  the  back  door  watching  the  sky  for  moths,  but 
they  did  not  seem  to  be  very  numerous.  Her  spirits 
sank  and  she  breathed  unevenly.  Then  she  heard  the 
front  screen.  She  reached  the  middle  door  as  Elnora 
touched  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    243 

"Hurry,  and  get  ready,  Elnora,"  she  said.  "Your 
►supper  is  almost  spoiled  now." 

Elnora  closed  the  stair  door  behind  her,  and  for  the 
first  time  in  her  life  threw  the  heavy  lever  which  barred 
out  any  one  from  downstairs.  Mrs.  Comstock  heard  the 
thud,  and  knew  what  it  meant.  She  reeled  slightly  and 
caught  the  doorpost  for  support.  For  a  few  minutes  she 
clung  there,  then  sank  to  the  nearest  chair.  After  a  long 
time  she  arose  and,  stumbling  half  blindly,  she  put  the 
food  in  the  cupboard  and  covered  the  table.  She  took 
the  lamp  in  one  hand,  the  butter  in  the  other,  and  started 
for  the  spring  house.  Something  brushed  close  by  her 
face,  and  she  looked  just  in  time  to  see  a  winged  creature 
rise  above  the  cabin  and  sail  away. 

"That  was  a  night  bird,"  she  muttered.  As  she 
stooped  to  set  the  butter  in  the  water,  came  another 
thought.  "Perhaps  it  was  a  moth!"  Mrs.  Comstock 
dropped  the  butter  and  hurried  out  with  the  lamp;  she 
held  it  high  above  her  head  and  waited  until  her  arms 
ached.  Small  insects  of  night  gathered,  and  at  last  a 
little  dusty  miller,  but  nothing  came  of  any  size. 

"I  got  to  go  where  they  are,  if  I  get  them,"  muttered 
Mrs.  Comstock. 

She  hurried  into  the  cabin,  set  the  lamp  on  the  table, 
and  stood  thinking  deeply.  She  went  to  the  barn  for  the 
pair  of  stout  high  boots  she  used  in  feeding  stock  in  deep 
snow.  Throwing  the  boots  by  the  back  door  she  climbed 
to  the  loft  over  the  spring  house,  and  hunted  an  old  lard 
oil  lantern  and  one  of  first  manufacture  for  oil.     Both 


244  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

these  she  cleaned  and  filled.  She  listened  until  every- 
thing upstairs  had  been  still  for  over  a  half  hour.  By 
that  time  it  was  after  eleven  o'clock.  Then  she  took  the 
good  lantern  from  the  kitchen,  the  two  old  ones,  a  hand- 
ful of  matches,  a  ball  of  twine,  and  went  from  the  cabin, 
softly  closing  the  door. 

Sitting  on  the  back  steps,  she  put  on  the  boots,  and  then 
stood  gazing  into  the  sweet  June  night,  first  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  woods  on  her  land,  then  toward  the  Limberlost. 
Its  outline  looked  so  dark  and  forbidding  she  shuddered 
and  went  down  the  garden,  taking  the  path  toward  the 
woods,  but  as  she  neared  the  pool  her  knees  wavered  and 
her  courage  fled.  The  knowledge  that  in  her  soul  she 
was  now  glad  Robert  Comstock  was  at  the  bottom  of  it 
made  a  coward  of  her,  who  fearlessly  had  mourned  him 
there,  nights  untold.  She  could  not  go  on.  She  skirted 
the  back  of  the  garden,  crossed  a  field,  and  came  out  on 
the  road.  Soon  she  reached  the  Limberlost.  She  hunted 
until  she  found  the  old  trail,  then  followed  it  stum- 
bling over  logs  and  through  clinging  vines  and  grasses. 
The  heavy  boots  clumped  on  her  feet,  overhanging 
branches  whipped  her  face  and  pulled  her  hair.  But  her 
eyes  were  on  the  sky  as  she  went  straining  into  the  night, 
hoping  to  find  signs  of  a  living  creature  on  wing. 

By  and  by  she  began  to  see  the  wavering  flight  of  some- 
thing she  thought  near  the  right  size.  She  had  no  idea 
where  she  was,  but  she  stopped,  lighted  a  lantern  and 
hung  it  as  high  as  she  could  reach.  A  little  distance 
away  she  placed  the   second    and  then  the  third.     The 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    245 

objects  came  nearer,  and  sick  with  disappointment  she 
saw  that  they  were  bats.  Crouching  in  the  damp  swamp 
grasses,  without  a  thought  of  snakes  or  venomous  insects, 
she  waited,  her  eyes  roving  from  lantern  to  lantern.  Once 
she  thought  a  creature  of  high  flight  dropped  near  the 
lard  oil  light,  so  she  arose  breathlessly  waiting,  but  either 
it  passed  or  it  was  an  illusion.  She  glanced  at  the  old 
lantern,  then  at  the  new,  and  was  on  her  feet  in  an  instant 
creeping  close.  Something  large  as  a  small  bird  was 
fluttering  around.  Mrs.  Comstock  began  to  perspire, 
while  her  hand  shook  wildly.  Closer  she  crept  and  just 
as  she  reached  for  it,  something  similar  swept  by  and  both 
flew  away  together. 

Mrs.  Comstock  set  her  teeth  and  stood  shivering.  For 
a  long  time  the  locusts  rasped,  the  whip-poor-wills  cried 
and  a  steady  hum  of  night  life  throbbed  in  her  ears. 
Away  in  the  sky  she  saw  something  coming  when  it  was 
no  larger  than  a  falling  leaf.  Straight  on  toward  the 
light  it  came.  Without  in  the  least  realizing  what  she  was 
doing,  Mrs.  Comstock  began  to  pray  aloud. 

"This  way,  O  Lord!  Make  it  come  this  way !  Please! 
You  know  how  I  need  it!     O  Lord,  send  it  lower! " 

The  moth  hesitated  at  the  first  light,  then  slowly,  easily 
it  came  toward  the  second,  as  if  following  a  path  of  air. 
It  touched  a  leaf  near  the  lantern  and  settled.  As  Mrs. 
Comstock  reached  for  it  a  thin  yellow  spray  wet  her  hand 
and  the  surrounding  leaves.  When  its  wings  raised  above 
its  back,  her  fingers  came  together.  She  held  the  moth 
to  the  light.     It  was  nearer  brown  than  yellow,  and  she 


246  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

remembered  having  seen  some  like  it  in  the  boxes  that 
afternoon.  It  was  not  the  one  needed  to  complete  the 
collection,  but  Elnora  might  want  it,  so  Mrs.  Comstock 
held  on.  Just  there  the  Almighty  was  kind,  or  nature 
was  sufficient,  as  you  look  at  it,  for  following  the  law  of 
its  being  when  disturbed,  the  moth  again  threw  the  spray 
by  which  some  suppose  it  attracts  its  kind,  and  liberally 
sprinkled  Mrs.  Comstock's  dress  front  and  arms.  From 
that  instant,  she  became  the  best  moth  bait  ever  invented. 
Every  Polyphemus  in  range  hastened  to  her,  and  other 
fluttering  creatures  of  night  followed.  The  influx  came 
her  way.  She  snatched  wildly  here  and  there  until  she 
had  one  in  each  hand  and  no  place  to  put  them.  She 
could  see  more  coming,  and  her  aching  heart,  swollen 
with  the  strain  of  long  excitement,  hurt  pitifully.  She 
prayed  in  broken  exclamations  that  did  not  always  sound 
reverent,  but  never  was  human  soul  in  more  deadly 
earnest. 

Moths  were  coming.  She  had  one  in  each  hand.  They 
were  not  yellow,  and  she  did  not  know  what  to  do.  She 
glanced  around  to  try  to  discover  some  way  to  keep  what 
she  had,  and  her  throbbing  heart  stopped  and  every 
muscle  stiffened.  There  was  the  dim  outline  of  a  crouch- 
ing figure  not  two  yards  away,  and  a  pair  of  eyes  their 
owner  thought  hidden,  caught  the  light  in  a  cold  stream. 
Her  first  impulse  was  to  scream  and  fly  for  life.  Before 
her  lips  could  open  a  big  moth  alighted  on  her  breast 
while  she  felt  another  walking  over  her  hair.  All  sense 
of  caution  deserted  her.     She  did  not  care  to  live  if  she 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    247 

could  not  replace  the  yellow  moth  she  had  killed.  She 
set  her  eyes  on  those  among  the  leaves. 

"Here,  you!"  she  cried  hoarsely.  "I  need  you!  Get 
yourself  out  here,  and  help  me.  These  critters  are  going 
to  get  away  from  me,  and  I've  got  to  have  them.    Hustle ! " 

Pete  Corson  parted  the  bushes  and  stepped  into  the 
light. 

"Oh,  it's  you!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I  might  have 
known!  But  you  gave  me  a  start.  Here,  hold  these 
until  I  make  some  sort  of  bag  for  them.  Go  easy!  If 
you  break  them  I  don't  guarantee  what  will  happen  to 
you!" 

"Pretty  fierce,  ain't  you!"  laughed  Pete,  but  he  ad- 
vanced and  held  out  his  hands.     "For  Elnora,  I  s'pose?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  " In  a  mad  fit,  I  trampled 
one  this  morning,  and  by  the  luck  of  the  old  boy  himself  it 
was  the  last  moth  she  needed  to  complete  a  collection. 
I  got  to  get  another  one  or  die." 

"Then  I  guess  it's  your  funeral,"  said  Pete.  "There 
ain't  a  chance  in  a  dozen  the  right  one  will  come.  What 
colour  was  it?" 

"Yellow,  and  big  as  a  bird." 

"The  Emperor,  likely,"  said  Pete.  "You  dig  for  that 
kind,  and  they  are  not  numerous,  so's  'at  you  can  smash 
'em  for  fun." 

"Well,  I  can  try  to  get  one,  anyway,"  said  Mrs.  Com- 
stock. "  I  forgot  all  about  bringing  anything  to  put  them 
in.     You  take  a  pinch  on  their  wings  until  I  make  a  poke." 

Mrs.    Comstock   removed   her   apron,   tearing  off  the 


248  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

strings.  She  unfastened  and  stepped  from  the  skirt  of 
her  calico  dress.  With  one  apron  string  she  tied  shut  the 
band  and  placket.  She  pulled  a  wire  pin  from  her  hair, 
stuck  it  through  the  other  string,  and  using  it  as  a  bod- 
kin ran  it  around  the  hem  of  her  skirt.  Her  fingers  flew; 
and  shortly  she  had  a  large  bag.  She  put  several 
branches  inside  to  which  the  moths  could  cling,  closed 
the  mouth  partially  and  held  it  toward  Pete. 

"Put  your  hand  well  down  and  let  the  things  go!"  she 
ordered.  "  But  be  careful,  man !  Don't  run  into  the  twigs ! 
Easy!  That's  one.  Now  the  other.  Is  the  one  on  my 
head  gone?  There  was  one  on  my  dress,  but  I  guess  it 
flew.     Here  comes  a  kind  of  a  gray-looking  one." 

Pete  slipped  several  more  moths  into  the  bag. 

"Now,  that's  five,  Mrs.  Comstock,"  he  said.  "I'm 
sorry,  but  you'll  have  to  make  that  do.  You  must  get 
out  of  here  lively.  Your  lights  will  be  taken  for  hurry 
calls,  and  inside  the  next  hour  a  couple  of  men  will  ride 
here  like  fury.  They  won't  be  nice  Sunday  school  men, 
and  they  won't  hold  bags  and  catch  moths  for  you.  You 
must  go  quick!" 

Mrs.  Comstock  laid  down  the  bag  and  pulled  one  of  the 
lanterns  lower. 

"I  won't  budge  a  step,"  she  said.  "This  land  don't 
belong  to  you.  You  have  no  right  to  order  me  off  it. 
Here  I  stay  until  I  get  a  Yellow  Emperor,  and  no  little 
petering  thieves  of  this  neighbourhood  can  scare  me  away." 

"You  don't  understand,"  said  Pete.  "I'm  willing  to 
lielp  Elnora,  and  I'd  take  care  of  you  if  I  could,  but  there 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    249 

will  be  too  many  for  me,  and  they  will  be  mad  at  being 
called  out  for  nothing." 

"Well,  who's  calling  them  out?"  demanded  Mrs.  Corn- 
stock.  "I'm  catching  moths.  If  a  lot  of  good-for- 
nothings  get  fooled  into  losing  some  sleep,  why,  let  them, 
they  can't  hurt  me,  or  stop  my  work." 

"They  can,  and  they'll  do  both." 

"Well,  I'll  see  them  do  it!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"I've  got  Robert's  revolver  in  my  dress,  and  I  can  shoot 
as  straight  as  any  man,  if  I'm  mad  enough.  Any  one  that 
interferes  with  me  to-night  will  find  me  mad  a  plenty. 
There  goes  another!" 

She  stepped  into  the  light  and  waited  until  a  big  brown 
moth  settled  on  her  and  was  easily  taken.  Then  in  light, 
airy  flight  came  a  delicate  pale  green  thing,  and  Mrs. 
Comstock  started  in  pursuit.  But  the  scent  was  not 
right.  The  moth  fluttered  high,  then  dropped  lower,  still 
lower,  and  sailed  away.  With  outstretched  hands  Mrs. 
Comstock  pursued  it.  She  hurried  one  way  and  another, 
then  ran  over  an  object  which  tripped  her  and  she  fell. 
She  regained  her  feet  in  an  instant,  but  she  had  lost  sight 
of  the  moth.  With  livid  face  she  turned  on  the  crouching 
man. 

"You  nasty,  sneaking  son  of  Satan!"  she  cried.  "Why 
are  you  hiding  there?  You  made  me  lose  the  one  I 
wanted  most  of  any  I've  had  a  chance  at  yet.  Get  out 
of  here!  Go  this  minute,  or  I'll  fill  your  worthless  car- 
cass so  full  of  holes  you'll  do  to  sift  cornmeal.  Go,  I 
say!     I'm  using  the  Limberlost  to-night,  and  I  won't  be 


250  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

stopped  by  the  devil  himself!  Cut  like  fury,  and  tell 
the  rest  of  them  they  can  just  go  home.  Pete  is  going  to 
help  me,  and  he  is  all  of  you  I  need.     Now  go  1 " 

The  man  turned  and  went.  Pete  leaned  against  a  tree, 
held  his  mouth  shut  and  shook  inwardly.  Mrs.  Comstock 
came  back  panting. 

"The  old  scoundrel  made  me  lose  that!"  she  said. 
"If  any  one  else  comes  snooping  around  here  I'll  just 
blow  them  up  to  start  with.  I  haven't  time  to  talk. 
Suppose  that  had  been  yellow!  I'd  have  killed  that 
man,  sure!  The  Limberlost  isn't  safe  to-night,  and  the 
sooner  those  whelps  find  it  out,  the  better  it  will  be  for 
them." 

Pete  stopped  laughing  to  look  at  her.  He  saw  that  she 
was  speaking  the  truth.  She  was  quite  past  reason,  sense, 
or  fear.  The  soft  night  air  stirred  the  wet  hair  around  her 
temples,  the  flickering  lanterns  made  her  face  a  ghastly 
green.  She  would  stop  at  nothing,  that  was  evident. 
Pete  suddenly  began  catching  moths  with  exemplary  in- 
dustry.    In  putting  one  into  the  bag,  another  escaped. 

"We  must  not  try  that  again,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"Now,  what  will  we  do?" 

"We  are  close  to  the  old  case,"  said  Pete.  "I  think  I 
can  get  into  it.     Maybe  we  could  slip  the  rest  in  there." 

"That's  a  fine  idea!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "They'll 
have  so  much  room  there  they  won't  be  likely  to  hurt 
themselves,  and  the  books  say  they  don't  fly  in  daytime 
unless  they  are  disturbed,  so  they  will  settle  when  it's 
light,  and  I  can  come  with  Elnora  to  get  them." 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    251 

They  captured  two  more,  and  then  Pete  carried  them 
to  the  case. 

"Here  comes  a  big  one!"  he  cried  as  he  returned. 

Mrs.  Comstock  looked  up  and  stepped  out  with  a 
prayer  on  her  lips.  She  could  not  tell  the  colour  at  that 
distance,  but  the  moth  appeared  different  from  the  others. 
On  it  came,  dropping  lower  and  darting  from  light  to 
light.  As  it  swept  near  her,  "O  Heavenly  Father!" 
exulted  Mrs.  Comstock,  "it's  yellow!  Careful,  Pete! 
Your  hat,  maybe!" 

Pete  made  a  long  sweep.  The  moth  wavered  above  the 
hat  and  sailed  away.  Mrs.  Comstock  leaned  against  a 
tree  and  covered  her  face  with  her  shaking  hands. 

"That  is  my  punishment!"  she  cried.  "O,  Lord,  if 
you  will  give  a  moth  like  that  into  my  possession,  I'll 
always  be  a  better  woman!" 

The  Emperor  again  came  in  sight.  Pete  stood  tense 
and  ready.  Mrs.  Comstock  stepped  into  the  light  and 
watched  the  moth's  course.  Then  a  second  appeared  in 
pursuit  of  the  first.  The  larger  one  wavered  into  the 
radius  of  light  once  more.  The  perspiration  rolled  down 
the  man's  tense  face.     He  half  lifted  the  hat. 

"Pray,  woman!     Pray  now!"  he  panted. 

"I  guess  I  best  get  over  by  that  lard  oil  light  and  go 
to  work,"  breathed  Mrs.  Comstock.  "The  Lord  knows 
this  is  all  in  prayer,  but  it's  no  time  for  words  just  now. 
Ready,  Pete!     You  are  going  to  get  a  chance  first!" 

Pete  made  another  long,  steady  sweep,  but  the  moth 
darted  beneath  the  hat.     In  its  flight  it  came  straight  to- 


252  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

ward  Mrs.  Comstock.  She  snatched  off  the  remnant  of 
apron  she  had  tucked  into  her  petticoat  band  and  held 
the  calico  before  her.  The  moth  struck  full  against  it 
and  clung  to  the  goods.  Pete  crept  up  stealthily.  The 
second  moth  followed  the  first,  and  the  spray  showered 
the  apron. 

"Wait!"  gasped  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I  think  they  have 
settled.     The  books  say  they  won't  leave  now." 

The  big  pale  yellow  creature  clung  firmly,  lowering 
and  raising  its  wings.  The  other  came  nearer.  Mrs. 
Comstock  held  the  cloth  with  rigid  hands  while  Pete 
could  hear  her  breathing  in  short  gusts. 

"Shall  I  try  now?"  he  implored. 

"Wait!"  whispered  the  woman.  "Something  seems  to 
say  wait!" 

The  night  breeze  stiffened  and  gently  waved  the  apron. 
Locusts  rasped,  mosquitoes  hummed  and  frogs  sang  unin- 
terruptedly.    A  musky  odour  slowly  filled  the  air. 

"Now  shall  I?"  questioned  Pete. 

"No.  Leave  them  alone.  They  are  safe  now.  They 
are  mine.  They  are  my  salvation.  God  and  the  Lim- 
berlost  gave  them  to  me!  They  won't  move  for  hours. 
The  books  all  say  so.  O  Heavenly  Father,  I  am  thank- 
ful to  You,  and  you,  too,  Pete  Corson !  You  are  a  good 
man  to  help  me.  Now,  I  can  go  home  and  face  my 
girl." 

Instead,  Mrs.  Comstock  dropped  suddenly.  She 
spread  the  apron  across  her  knees.  The  moths  were  un- 
disturbed.    Then  her  tired  white  head  dropped,  the  tears 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    255 

she  had  thought  forever  dried  shed  forth,  and  she 
sobbed  for  pure  joy. 

"Oh,  I  wouldn't  do  that  now,  you  know!"  comforted 
Pete.  "Think  of  getting  two!  That's  more  than  you 
ever  could  have  expected.  A  body  would  think  you 
would  cry  if  you  hadn't  got  any.  Come  on,  now.  It's 
almost  morning.     Let  me  help  you  home." 

Pete  took  the  bag  and  the  two  old  lanterns.  Mrs. 
Comstock  carried  her  moths  and  the  best  lantern  and 
went  ahead  to  light  the  way. 

Elnora  had  sat  by  her  window  far  into  the  night.  At 
last  she  undressed  and  went  to  bed,  but  sleep  would  not 
come.  She  had  gone  to  the  city  to  talk  with  members 
of  the  School  Board  about  a  room  in  the  grades.  There 
was  a  possibility  that  she  might  secure  the  moth,  and  so 
be  able  to  start  to  college  that  fall,  but  if  she  did  not,  then 
she  wanted  the  school.  She  had  been  given  some  en- 
couragement, but  she  was  so  unhappy  that  nothing  mat- 
tered. She  could  not  see  the  way  open  to  anything  in 
life,  while  she  remained  with  her  mother,  save  a  long  series 
of  disappointments.  Yet  Margaret  Sinton  had  advised 
her  to  go  home  and  try  once  more.  Margaret  had 
seemed  so  sure  there  would  be  a  change  for  the  better 
that  Elnora  had  consented,  although  she  had  no  hope 
herself.  So  strong  is  the  bond  of  blood,  she  could  not 
make  up  her  mind  to  seek  a  home  elsewhere,  even  after 
the  day  which  had  passed.  Unable  to  sleep  she  arose  at 
last,  and  the  room  being  warm,  she  sat  on  the  floor  by 
the  window.     The  lights  in  the  swamp  caught  her  eye. 


254  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

She  was  very  uneasy,  for  quite  a  hundred  of  her  best 
moths  were  in  the  case.  However,  there  was  no  money, 
and  no  one  ever  had  touched  a  book  or  any  of  her  appara- 
tus. Watching  the  lights  set  her  thinking,  and  before  she 
realized  it,  she  was  in  a  panic  of  fear. 

She  hurried  down  the  stairway  softly  calling  her 
mother.  There  was  no  answer.  She  lightly  stepped 
across  the  sitting  room  and  looked  in  at  the  open  door. 
There  was  no  one,  and  the  bed  had  not  been  used.  Her 
first  thought  was  that  her  mother  had  gone  to  the  pool; 
and  the  Limberlost  was  alive  with  signals.  Pity  and  fear 
mingled  in  the  heart  of  the  girl.  She  opened  the  kitchen 
door,  crossed  the  garden  and  ran  back  to  the  swamp. 
As  she  neared  it  she  listened,  but  she  could  hear  only  the 
usual  voices  of  night. 

"Mother!"  she  called  softly.  Then  louder,  "Mother!" 
There  was  not  a  sound.  Chilled  with  fright  she  hur- 
ried back  to  the  cabin.  She  did  not  know  what  to  do. 
She  understood  what  the  lights  in  the  Limberlost  meant. 
Where  was  her  mother?  She  was  afraid  to  enter,  while 
she  was  growing  very  cold  and  still  more  fearful  about 
remaining  outside.  At  last  she  went  to  her  mother's 
room,  picked  up  the  gun,  carried  it  into  the  kitchen,  and 
crowding  in  a  little  corner  behind  the  stove,  she  waited 
in  trembling  anxiety.  The  time  was  dreadfully  long  be- 
fore she  heard  her  mother's  voice.  Then  she  decided 
that  some  one  had  been  ill  and  sent  for  her,  so  she  took 
courage,  and  stepping  swiftly  across  the  kitchen  she  un- 
barred the  door  and  drew  back  out  of  sight  by  the  table. 


MARGARET  REVEALS  A  SECRET    255 

Mrs.  Comstock  entered  dragging  her  heavy  feet.  Her 
dress  skirt  was  gone,  her  petticoat  wet  and  drabbled,  and 
the  waist  of  her  dress  was  almost  torn  from  her  body. 
Her  hair  hung  in  damp  strings;  her  eyes  were  red  with 
crying.  In  one  hand  she  held  the  lantern,  and  in  the  other 
stiffly  extended  before  her,  on  a  wad  of  calico  reposed  a 
magnificent  pair  of  Yellow  Emperors.  Elnora  stared,  her 
lips  parted. 

"Shall  I  put  these  others  in  the  kitchen?"  inquired  a 
man's  voice. 

The  girl  shrank  back  to  the  shadows. 

"Yes,  anywhere  inside  the  door,"  replied  Mrs.  Com- 
stock as  she  moved  a  few  steps  to  make  way  for  him. 
Pete's  head  appeared.  He  set  down  the  moths  and  was 
gone. 

"Thank  you,  Pete,  more  than  ever  woman  thanked  you 
before!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 

She  placed  the  lantern  on  the  table  and  barred  the  door. 
As  she  turned  Elnora  came  into  view.  Mrs.  Comstock 
leaned  toward  her,  and  held  out  the  moths.  In  a  voice 
vibrant  with  tones  never  before  heard  she  said,  "Elnora, 
my  girl,  mother's  found  you  another  moth!" 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Wherein   Mother   Love   Is    Bestowed  on   Elnora, 
and  She  Finds  an  Assistant  in  Moth  Hunting 

Elnora  awoke  at  dawn  and  lay  gazing  around  the  un- 
familiar room.  She  noticed  that  every  vestige  of  mas- 
culine attire  and  belongings  was  gone,  and  knew,  with- 
out any  explanation,  what  that  meant.  For  some  reason 
every  tangible  evidence  of  her  father  was  banished,  and 
she  was  at  last  to  be  allowed  to  take  his  place.  She 
turned  to  look  at  her  mother.  Mrs.  Comstock's  face 
was  white  and  haggard,  but  on  it  rested  an  expression  of 
profound  peace  Elnora  never  before  had  seen.  As  she 
studied  the  features  on  the  pillow  beside  her,  the  heart  of 
the  girl  throbbed  in  tenderness.  She  realized  as  fully 
as  any  one  else  could  what  her  mother  had  suffered. 
Thoughts  of  the  night  brought  shuddering  fear.  She 
softly  slipped  from  the  bed,  went  to  her  room,  dressed 
and  entered  the  kitchen  to  attend  the  Emperors  and  pre- 
pare breakfast.  The  pair  had  been  left  clinging  to  the 
piece  of  calico.  The  calico  was  there  and  a  few  pieces  of 
beautiful  wing.     A  mouse  had  eaten  the  moths! 

"Well,  of  all  the  horrible  luck/"  gasped  Elnora. 

ijWith  the  first  thought  of  her  mother,  she  caught  up 

256 


MOTHER  LOVE  IS  BESTOWED  257 

the  remnants  of  the  moths,  burying  them  in  the  ashes 
of  the  stove.  She  took  the  bag  to  her  room,  hurriedly 
releasing  its  contents,  but  there  was  not  another  Yellow 
one.  Her  mother  had  said'  some  had  been  confined  in  the 
case  in  the  Limberlost.  There  was  still  a  hope  that  an 
Emperor  might  be  among  them.  She  peeped  at  her 
mother,  who  still  slept  soundly. 

Elnora  took  a  large  piece  of  mosquito  netting,  and  ran 
to  the  swamp.  Throwing  it  over  the  top  of  the  case,  she 
unlocked  the  door.  She  reeled,  faint  with  distress.  The 
living  moths  that  had  been  confined  there,  in  their  flut- 
tering to  escape  to  night  and  the  mates  they  sought,  not 
only  had  wrecked  the  other  specimens  of  the  case,  but 
torn  themselves  to  ribbons  on  the  pins.  A  third  of  the 
rarest  moths  of  the  collection  for  the  man  of  India  were 
antennseless,  legless,  wingless,  and  often  headless.  Elnora 
sobbed  aloud. 

At  last  she  closed  the  door,  dropped  the  netting,  and 
sank  on  a  log,  staring  before  her  with  unseeing  eyes,  try- 
ing to  think. 

"This  is  overwhelming,"  she  said  at  last.  "It  is  mak- 
ing a  fatalist  of  me.  I  am  beginning  to  think  things  hap- 
pen as  they  are  ordained  from  the  beginning,  this  plainly 
indicating  that  there  is  to  be  no  college  at  least,  this 
year,  for  me.  My  life  is  all  mountain-top  or  canon.  I 
wish  some  one  would  lead  me  into  a  few  days  of  'green 
pastures.'  Last  night  I  went  to  sleep  on  mother's  arm, 
the  moths  all  secured,  love  and  college,  certainties.  This 
morning  I  wake  to  find  all  my  hopes  wrecked.     I  simply 


258  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

don't  dare  let  mother  know  that  instead  of  helping  me, 
she  has  ruined  my  collection.  Everything  is  gone!  — 
unless  the  love  lasts.  That  actually  seemed  true.  I  be- 
lieve I  will  go  see." 

The  love  remained.  Indeed,  in  the  overflow  of  the 
long  hardened,  pent-up  heart,  the  girl  was  almost  suffo- 
cated with  tempestuous  caresses  and  generous  offerings. 
Before  the  day  was  over  Elnora  realized  that  she  never 
had  known  her  mother  at  all.  The  woman  who  now 
busily  went  through  the  cabin,  her  eyes  bright,  eager, 
alert,  constantly  planning,  was  a  stranger.  Her  very 
face  was  different,  while  it  did  not  seem  possible  that 
during  one  night  the  acid  of  twenty  years  could  disappear 
from  the  voice  and  leave  it  sweet  and  pleasant. 

For  the  next  few  days  Elnora  worked  at  mounting  the 
moths  her  mother  had  taken.  She  had  to  go  to  the  Bird 
Woman  and  tell  about  the  disaster,  but  Mrs.  Comstock 
was  allowed  to  think  that  Elnora  delivered  the  moths 
when  she  made  the  trip.  If  she  had  told  her  what  actually 
happened,  the  chances  were  that  Mrs.  Comstock  again 
would  have  taken  possession  of  the  Limberlost,  hunting 
there  until  she  replaced  all  the  moths  that  had  been 
destroyed.  But  Elnora  knew  from  experience  what  it 
meant  to  collect  such  a  list  in  pairs.  Valiant  as  she 
was  in  any  good  cause,  this  time  she  was  compelled 
to  admit  that  she  was  defeated.  It  would  require  hard 
work  for  at  least  two  summers  to  replace  the  lost  moths. 
When  she  left  the  Bird  Woman  she  went  to  the  presi- 
dent of  the  Onabasha  schools  and  asked  him  to  do  all 


MOTHER  LOVE  IS  BESTOWED  259 

in  his  power  to  secure  her  a  room  in  one  of  the  ward 
buildings. 

The  next  morning  the  last  moth  was  mounted,  and  the 
housework  finished.  Elnora  said  to  her  mother,  "If 
you  don't  mind,  I  believe  I  will  go  into  the  woods  pasture 
beside  Sleepy  Snake  Creek  and  see  if  I  can  catch  some 
dragon-flies  or  moths." 

"Wait  until  I  get  a  knife  and  a  pail  and  I  will  go  along," 
answered  Mrs.  Comstock.  "The  dandelions  are  plenty 
tender  for  greens  among  the  deep  grasses,  and  I  might 
just  happen  to  see  something  myself.  My  eyes  are  pretty 
sharp." 

"I  wish  you  could  realize  how  young  you  are,"  said 
Elnora.  "  I  know  women  in  Onabasha  who  are  ten  years 
older  than  you,  yet  they  look  twenty  years  younger.  So 
could  you,  if  you  would  dress  your  hair  becomingly,  and 
wear  appropriate  clothes." 

"I  think  my  hair  puts  me  in  the  old  woman  class  per- 
manently," said  Mrs.  Comstock,  but  there  was  no  bitter- 
ness in  her  voice. 

"Well,  it  don't!"  cried  Elnora.  "There  is  a  woman 
of  twenty-eight  who  has  hair  as  white  as  yours  from  sick 
headaches,  but  her  face  is  young  and  beautiful.  If  your 
face  would  grow  a  little  fuller  and  those  lines  would  go 
away,  you'd  be  lovely!" 

"You  little  pig!"  laughed  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Any  one 
would  think  you  would  be  satisfied  with  having  a  splinter 
new  mother,  without  setting  up  a  kick  on  her  looks,  first 
thing.     Greedy!" 


2<5o  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"That  is  a  good  word,"  said  Elnora.  "I  admit  the 
charge.  I  am  greedy  over  every  wasted  year.  I  want 
you  young,  lovely,  prettily  dressed  and  enjoying  life  like 
the  other  girls'  mothers." 

Mrs.  Comstock  laughed  softly  as  she  pushed  back  her 
sunbonnet  so  that  shrubs  and  bushes  along  the  way  could 
be  scanned  closely.  Elnora  walked  ahead  with  a  case 
over  her  shoulder,  a  net  in  her  hand.  Her  head  was  bare, 
the  rolling  collar  of  her  lavender  gingham  dress  was  cut  in 
a  V  at  the  throat,  the  sleeves  only  reached  the  elbows. 
Every  few  steps  she  paused  and  examined  the  shrubbery 
carefully,  while  Mrs.  Comstock  was  watching  until  her 
eyes  ached,  but  there  were  no  dandelions  in  the  pail  she 
carried. 

Early  June  was  rioting  in  fresh  grasses,  bright  flowers, 
bird  songs,  and  gay-winged  creatures  of  air.  Down  the 
footpath  the  two  went  through  the  perfect  morning,  the 
love  of  God  and  all  nature  in  their  hearts.  At  last  they 
reached  the  creek,  following  it  toward  the  bridge.  Here 
Mrs.  Comstock  found  a  large  bed  of  tender  dandelions 
and  stopped  to  fill  her  pail.  Then  she  sat  on  the  bank, 
picking  over  the  greens,  while  she  listened  to  the  creek 
softly  singing  its  June  song. 

Elnora  remained  within  calling  distance,  and  Was  hav- 
ing good  success.  At  last  she  crossed  the  creek,  follow- 
ing it  up  to  a  bridge.  There  she  began  a  careful  examina- 
tion of  the  under  sides  of  the  sleepers  and  flooring  for 
cocoons.  Mrs.  Comstock  could  see  her  and  the  creek 
for  several  rods  above.     The  mother  sat  beating  the  long 


MOTHER  LOVE  IS  BESTOWED  261 

green  leaves  across  her  hand,  carefully  picking  out  the 
white  buds,  because  Elnora  liked  them,  when  a  splash  up 
the  creek  attracted  her  attention. 

Around  the  bend  came  a  man.  He  was  bareheaded, 
dressed  in  a  white  sweater,  and  waders  which  reached  his 
waist.  He  kept  on  the  bank,  only  entering  the  water 
when  necessary.  He  had  a  queer  basket  strapped  on  his 
hip,  and  with  a  small  rod  he  sent  a  long  line  spinning  be- 
fore him  down  the  creek,  deftly  manipulating  with  it  a 
little  floating  object.  He  was  nearer  Elnora  than  her 
mother,  but  Mrs.  Comstock  thought  possibly  by  hurry- 
ing she  could  remain  unseen  and  yet  warn  the  girl  that  a 
stranger  was  coming.  Thrusting  the  greens  into  the  pail 
she  ran  down  the  creek  bank.  As  she  neared  the  bridge, 
she  caught  a  sapling  and  leaned  over  the  water  to  call 
Elnora..  With  her  lips  parted  to  speak,  she  hesitated 
a  second  to  watch  a  sort  of  insect  that  flashed  past 
on  the  water,  when  a;  splash  from  the  man  attracted 
the  girl. 

She  was  under  the  bridge,  one  knee  planted  in  the  em- 
bankment and  a  foot  braced  to  support  her.  Her  hair 
was  tousled  by  wind  and  bushes,  her  face  flushed,  and 
she  lifted  her  arms  above  her  head,  working  to  loosen  a 
cocoon  she  had  found.  The  call  Mrs.  Comstock  had 
intended  to  utter  never  found  voice,  for  as  Elnora  looked 
down  at  the  sound,  "Possibly  I  could  get  that  for  you," 
suggested  the  man. 

Mrs.  Comstock  drew  back.  He  was  a  young  man 
with  a  wonderfully  attractive  face,  although  it  was  too 


262  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

white  for  robust  health,  broad  shoulders,  and  slender 
upright  frame. 

"Oh,  I  do  hope  you  can!"  answered  Elnora.  "It's 
quite  a  find!  It's  one  of  those  lovely  pale  red  cocoons 
described  in  the  books.  I  suspect  it  comes  from  having 
been  in  a  dark  place  and  screened  from  the  weather." 

"Is  that  so?"  cried  the  man.  "Wait  a  minute.  I've 
never  seen  one.  I  suppose  it's  a  Cecropia,  from  the 
location." 

"Of  course,"  said  Elnora.  "It's  so  cool  here  the  moth 
hasn't  emerged.  The  cocoon  is  a  big,  baggy  one,  and  it 
is  as  red  as  fox  tail." 

"What  luck!"  he  cried.  "Are  you  making  a  collec- 
tion?" 

He  reeled  in  his  line,  laid  his  rod  across  a  bush  and 
climbed  the  embankment  to  Elnora's  side,  produced  a 
knife  and  began  the  work  of  whittling  a  deep  groove 
around  the  cocoon. 

"Yes.  I  paid  my  way  through  the  high  school  in  Ona- 
basha  with  them.  Now  I  am  starting  a  collection  which 
means  college." 

"Onabasha!"  said  the  man.  "That  is  where  I  am 
visiting."  He  paused  to  rest,  for  the  bridge  flooring  was 
hard  lumber,  and  the  task  he  had  set  himself  not  easy. 
"Possibly  you  know  my  people  —  Dr.  Ammon's?  The 
doctor  is  my  uncle.  My  home  is  in  Chicago.  I've  been 
having  typhoid  fever,  something  fierce.  In  the  hospital 
six  weeks.  Didn't  gain  strength  right,  so  Uncle  Doc  sent 
for  me.     I  am  to  live  out  of  doors  all  summer,  and  exer- 


MOTHER  LOVE  IS  BESTOWED  263' 

cise  until  I  get  in  condition  again.     Do  you  know  my 
uncle?" 

"Yes.  He  is  Aunt  Margaret's  doctor,  and  he  would 
be  ours,  only  we  are  never  ill." 

"Well,  you  look  it!"  said  the  man,  appraising  Elnora 
at  a  glance. 

"Strangers  always  mention  it,"  sighed  Elnora.  "I 
wonder  how  it  would  feel  to  be  a  pale  languid  lady  and 
ride  in  a  carriage." 

"Ask  me!"  laughed  the  man.     "It  feels  like  the^> 
dickens!     I'm  so  proud  of  my  feet.     It's  quite  a  trick  to 
stand  on  them  now.     I  have  to  keep  out  of  the  water  all 
I  can  and  stop  to  baby  every  half  mile.     But  with  inter- 
esting outdoor  work  I'll  be  myself  in  a  week." 

"Do  you  call  that  work?"  Elnora  indicated  the  creek. 

"I  do,  indeed!  Nearly  three  miles,  banks  too  soft  to 
brag  on  and  never  a  strike.  Wouldn't  you  call  that  hard 
labour?" 

"Yes,"  laughed  Elnora.  "Work  at  which  you  might 
kill  yourself  and  never  get  a  fish.  Did  any  one  tell  you 
there  were  trout  in  Sleepy  Snake  Creek?" 

"Uncle  said  I  could  try." 

"Oh,  you  can,"  said  Elnora.  "You  can  try  no  end, 
but  you'll  never  get  a  trout.  This  is  too  far  south  and 
too  warm  for  them.  If  you  sit  on  the  bank  and  use 
worms  you  might  get  some  perch  or  catfish." 

"But  that  isn't  exercise." 

"Well,  if  you  only  want  exercise,  go  right  on  fishing* 
You  can  get  a  creel  full  of  invisible  results  every  night." 


,264  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"I  object,"  said  the  man  emphatically.  He  stopped 
work  again  and  studied  Elnora.  Even  the  watching 
mother  could  not  blame  him.  Against  the  embankment, 
in  the  shade  of  the  bridge,  Elnora's  bright  head  and  her 
lavender  dress  made  a  picture  worthy  of  much  contem- 
plation. 

"I  object!"  repeated  the  man.  "When  I  work  I  want 
to  see  results.  I'd  rather  exercise  sawing  wood,  making 
one  pile  grow  little  and  the  other  big,  than  to  cast  all  day 
and  catch  nothing  because  there  is  not  a  fish  to  take. 
Work  for  work's  sake  don't  appeal  to  me.  I  work  for 
i  results." 

He  digged  the  groove  around  the  cocoon  with  skilled 
hand. 

"Now  there  is  some  fun  in  this!"  he  said.  "It's  going 
to  be  a  fair  job  to  cut  it  out,  but  when  it  comes,  it  is  not 
only  beautiful,  but  worth  a  price;  it  will  help  you  on  your 
way.  I  think  I'll  put  up  that  rod  and  hunt  moths. 
That  would  be  something  like!     Don't  you  want  help?" 

Elnora  parried  the  question. 

"Have  you  ever  hunted  moths,  Mr.  Ammon?" 

"Enough  to  know  the  ropes  in  taking  them,  and  to  dis- 
tinguish the  commonest  ones.  I  go  wild  on  Catocalae. 
There's  too  many  of  them,  all  too  much  alike  for  Philip, 
but  I  know  all  these  fellows.  One  flew  into  my  room 
when  I  was  about  ten  years  old,  and  we  thought  it  a  mir- 
acle. None  of  us  ever  had  seen  one,  so  we  took  it  over  to 
the  museum  to  Dr.  Dorsey.  He  said  they  were  common 
enough,  but  we  didn't  see  them  because  they  flew  at 


MOTHER  LOVE  IS  BESTOWED  265 

night.  He  showed  me  the  museum  collection,  and  I  was 
so  interested  I  took  mine  back  home  and  started  to  hunt 
them.  Every  year  after  that  we  went  to  our  cottage  a 
month  earlier,  so  I  could  find  them,  and  all  my  family 
helped.  I  stuck  to  it  until  I  went  to  college.  Then, 
keeping  the  little  moths  out  of  the  big  ones  was  too  much 
for  the  mater,  so  father  advised  that  I  donate  mine  to 
the  museum.  He  bought  a  fine  case  for  them  with  my 
name  on  it,  which  constitutes  my  sole  contribution  to 
science.     I  know  enough  to  help  you  all  right." 

"Aren't  you  going  north  this  year?" 

"All  depends  on  how  this  fever  leaves  me.  Uncle  says 
the  nights  are  too  cold  and  the  days  too  hot  there  for  me. 
He  thinks  I  had  better  stay  in  an  even  temperature  until 
I  am  strong  again.  I  am  going  to  stick  pretty  close  to  him 
until  I  know  I  am.  I  wouldn't  admit  it  to  any  one  at 
home,  but  I  was  almost  gone.  I  don't  believe  anything 
can  eat  up  nerve  much  faster  than  the  burning  of  a  slow 
fever.  No,  thanks,  I  have  enough.  I  stay  with  Uncle 
Doc,  so  if  I  feel  it  coming  again  he  can  do  something 
quickly." 

"  I  don't  blame  you,"  said  Elnora.  "  I  never  have  been 
sick,  but  it  must  be  dreadful.  I  am  afraid  you  are  tiring 
yourself  over  that.     Let  me  take  the  knife  awhile." 

"Oh,  it  isn't  so  bad  as  that!  I  wouldn't  be  wading 
creeks  if  it  were.  I  just  need  a  few  more  days  to  get 
steady  on  my  feet  again.  I'll  have  this  cut  out  in  a 
minute." 

"It  is  kind  of  you  to  get  it,"  said  Elnora.     "I  should 


266  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

have  had  to  peel  it,  which  would  spoil  the  cocoon  for  a 
specimen  and  ruin  the  moth." 

"You  haven't  said  yet  whether  I  may  help  you  while  I 
am  here." 

Elnora  hesitated. 

"You  better  say  'yes,'  "  he  persisted.  "It  would  be  a 
real  kindness.  It  would  keep  me  outdoors  all  day  and 
give  an  incentive  to  work.  I'm  good  at  it.  I'll  show  you 
if  I  am  not  in  a  week  or  so.  I  can  '  sugar,'  manipulate 
lights,  and  mirrors,  and  all  the  expert  methods.  I'll 
wager  moths  are  thick  in  the  old  swamp  over  there." 

"They  are,"  said  Elnora.  "Most  I  have  I  took  there. 
A  few  nights  ago  my  mother  caught  a  good  many,  but 
we  don't  dare  go  alone." 

"All  the  more  reason  why  you  need  me.  Where  do 
you  live  ?  I  can't  get  an  answer  from  you.  I'll  just  go  tell 
your  mother  who  I  am  and  ask  her  if  I  may  help  you. 
I  warn  you,  young  lady,  I  have  a  very  effective  way  with 
mothers.     They  almost  never  turn  me  down." 

"Then  it's  probable  you  will  have  a  new  experience 
when  you  meet  mine,"  said  Elnora.  "She  never  was 
known  to  do  what  any  one  expected  she  surely  would." 

The  cocoon  came  loose.  Philip  Ammon  stepped  down 
the  embankment,  turning  to  offer  his  hand  to  Elnora. 
She  ran  down  as  she  would  have  done  alone,  and  taking 
the  cocoon  turned  it  end  for  end  to  learn  if  the  imago  it 
contained  was  alive.  Then  Ammon  took  back  the  co- 
coon to  smooth  the  edges.  Mrs.  Comstock  gave  them 
one  long  look  as  they  stood  there,  and  returned  to  her 


MOTHER  LOVE  IS  BESTOWED  267 

dandelions.  She  began  the  cleaning  process  all  over 
again.  While  she  worked  she  paused  occasionally,  lis- 
tening intently.  Presently  they  came  down  the  creek, 
the  man  carrying  the  cocoon  as  if  it  were  a  jewel,  while 
Elnora  made  her  way  along  the  bank,  taking  a  lesson  in 
casting.  Her  face  was  flushed  with  excitement,  her  eyes 
shining,  the  bushes  taking  liberties  with  her  hair.  For  a 
picture  of  perfect  loveliness  she  scarcely  could  have  been 
surpassed,  and  the  eyes  of  Philip  Ammon  seemed  to  be 
in  working  order. 

"Moth-er!"  called  Elnora. 

There  was  an  undulant,  caressing  sweetness  in  the 
girl's  voice  as  she  sung  out  the  call  in  perfect  confidence 
that  it  would  bring  a  loving  answer,  that  struck  deep  in 
Mrs.  Comstock's  heart.  She  never  had  heard  that  word 
so  pronounced  before  and  a  lump  rose  in  her  throat. 

"Here!"  she  answered. 

She  went  on  examining  the  dandelion  leaves. 

"Mother,  this  is  Mr.  Philip  Ammon,  of  Chicago," 
said  Elnora.  "He  has  been  ill  and  he  is  staying  with  Dr. 
Ammon  in  Onabasha.  He  came  fishing  down  the  creek 
and  cut  this  cocoon  from  under  the  bridge  for  me.  He 
feels  that  it  would  be  better  to  hunt  moths  than  to  fish, 
until  he  gets  well.     What  do  you  think  about  it?" 

Philip  Ammon  extended  his  hand. 

"I  am  glad  to  know  you,"  he  said. 

"You  may  take  the  handshaking  for  granted,"  replied 
Mrs.  Comstock.  "Dandelions  have  a  way  of  making 
the  fingers  sticky,  and  I  like  to  know  a  man  before  I  take 


268  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

his  hand,  anyway.  That  introduction  seems  mighty  com- 
prehensive on  your  part,  but  it  still  leaves  me  unclassified. 
My  name  is  Comstock." 

Philip  bowed. 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  have  been  sick,"  said  Mrs. 
Comstock.  "But  if  people  will  live  where  they  have 
such  vile  water  as  they  do  in  Chicago,  J  don't  see  what 
else  they  are  to  expect." 

Ammon  studied  her  intently. 

"  I  am  sure  I  didn't  have  a  fever  on  purpose,"  he  said. 

"You  do  seem  a  little  wobbly  on  your  legs,"  she  ob- 
served. "Maybe  you  had  better  sit  and  rest  while  I 
finish  these  greens.  It's  late  for  the  genuine  article,  but 
in  the  shade,  among  long  grass,  they  are  still  tender." 

"May  I  have  a  leaf?"  asked  Ammon,  reaching  for  one 
as  he  sat  on  the  bank,  looking  from  the  little  creek  at 
his  feet,  away  through  the  dim  cool  spaces  of  the  June 
forest  on  the  opposite  side.  He  drew  a  deep  breath. 
""Glory,  but  this  is  good  after  almost  two  months  inside 
hospital  walls!" 

He  stretched  on  the  grass  and  lay  gazing  up  at  the 
leaves,  occasionally  asking  the  interpretation  of  a  bird 
note  or  the  origin  of  an  unfamiliar  forest  voice.  Elnora 
began  helping  with  the  dandelions. 

"Another,  please,"  said  the  young  man,  holding  out  his 
hand. 

"Do  you  suppose  this  is  the  kind  of  grass  Nebuchad- 
nezzar ate?"  she  asked,  giving  the  leaf. 

"He  knew  a  good  thing  if  it  is." 


MOTHER  LOVE  IS  BESTOWED  269 

"Oh,  you  should  taste  dandelions  boiled  with  bacon 
and  accompanied  by  mother's  especial  brand  of  corn- 
bread." 

"Don't!  My  appetite  is  twice  my  size  now.  While 
it  is  —  how  far  is  it  to  Onabasha,  shortest  cut?" 

"Three  miles." 

The  man  lay  in  perfect  content,  nibbling  leaves. 

"This  surely  is  a  treat,"  he  said.  "No  wonder  you 
find  good  hunting  here.  There  seems  to  be  foliage  for 
almost  every  kind  of  caterpillar.  But  I  suppose  you  have 
to  exchange  for  northern  species  and  Pacific  Coast  kinds?" 

"Yes.  And  every  one  wants  Regalis  in  trade.  I  never 
saw  the  like.  They  consider  a  Cecropia  or  a  Polyphemus 
an  insult,  and  a  Luna  is  barely  acceptable." 

"What  authorities  have  you?" 

Elnora  began  to  name  text-books  which  started  a  dis- 
cussion. Mrs.  Comstock  listened.  She  cleaned  dan- 
delions with  greater  deliberation  than  they  ever  before 
were  examined.  In  reality  she  was  taking  stock  of  the 
young  man's  long,  well-proportioned  frame,  his  strong 
hands,  his  smooth,  fine-textured  skin,  his  thick  shock  of 
dark  hair,  and  making  mental  notes  of  his  simple  manly 
speech  and  the  fact  that  he  evidently  did  know  a  great 
deal  about  moths.  It  pleased  her  to  think  that  if  he  had 
been  a  neighbour  boy  who  had  lain  beside  her  every  day 
of  his  life  while  she  worked,  he  could  have  been  no  more 
at  home.  She  liked  the  things  he  said,  but  she  was 
proud  that  Elnora  had  a  ready  answer  which  always 
seemed  appropriate. 


270  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

At  last  Mrs.  Comstock  finished  the  greens. 

"You  are  three  miles  from  the  city  and  less  than  a  mile 
from  where  we  live,"  she  said.  "If  you  will  tell  me  what 
you  dare  eat,  I  suspect  you  had  best  go  home  with  us  and 
rest  until  the  cool  of  the  day  before  you  start  back.  Prob- 
ably some  one  that  you  can  ride  in  with  will  be  passing 
before  evening." 

"That  is  mighty  kind  of  you,"  said  Philip.  "I  think 
I  will.  It  don't  matter  so  much  what  I  eat,  the  point  is 
that  I  must  be  moderate.     I  am  hungry  all  the  time." 

"Then  we  will  go,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock,  "and  we  will 
not  allow  you  to  make  yourself  sick  with  us." 

Philip  Ammon  was  on  his  feet.  Picking  up  the  pail 
of  greens  and  his  fishing  rod  he  stood  waiting.  Elnora 
led  the  way.  Mrs.  Comstock  motioned  Philip  to  follow 
and  she  walked  in  the  rear.  The  girl  carried  the  cocoon 
and  the  box  of  moths  she  had  taken,  searching  every  step 
for  more.  The  young  man  frequently  set  down  his  load 
to  join  in  the  pursuit  of  a  dragon-fly  or  moth,  while  Mrs. 
Comstock  watched  the  proceedings  with  sharp  eyes. 
Every  time  Philip  picked  up  the  pail  of  greens  she  struggled 
to  suppress  a  smile. 

Elnora  proceeded  slowly,  chattering  about  everything 
along  the  trail.  Philip  was  interested  in  all  the  objects 
she  pointed  out,  noticing  several  things  which  escaped  her. 
He  carried  the  greens  just  as  casually  when  they  took  a 
short  cut  down  the  roadway  as  along  the  trail.  When 
Elnora  turned  toward  the  gate  of  her  home  Philip  Am- 
mon stopped,  took  a  long  look  at  the  big  hewed  log  cabin, 


MOTHER  LOVE  IS  BESTOWED  271 

the  vines  which  clambered  over  it,  the  flower  garden 
ablaze  with  beds  of  bright  bloom  interspersed  with  straw- 
berries and  tomatoes,  the  trees  of  the  forest  rising  north 
and  west  like  a  green  wall,  and  exclaimed,  "How  beauti- 
ful!" 

Mrs.  Comstock  was  pleased.  "If  you  think  that," 
she  said,  "perhaps  you  will  understand,  how  in  all  this 
present-day  rush  to  be  modern,  I  have  preferred  to  re- 
main as  I  began.  My  husband  and  I  took  up  this  land, 
and  enough  trees  to  build  the  cabin,  stable,  and  outbuild- 
ings are  about  all  we  ever  cut.  Of  course,  if  he  had  lived, 
I  suppose  we  should  have  kept  with  our  neighbours.  I 
hear  considerable  about  the  value  of  the  land,  the  trees 
which  are  on  it,  and  the  oil  which  is  supposed  to  be  under 
it,  but  as  yet  I  haven't  brought  myself  to  change  any- 
thing. So  we  stand  for  one  of  the  few  remaining  homes 
of  first  settlers  in  this  region.  Come  in.  You  are  very 
welcome  to  what  we  have." 

Mrs.  Comstock  stepped  forward  and  took  the  lead. 
She  had  a  bowl  of  soft  water  and  a  pair  of  boots  to  offer 
for  the  heavy  waders,  for  outer  comfort,  a  glass  of  cold 
buttermilk  and  a  bench  on  which  to  rest,  in  the  circular 
arbour  until  dinner  was  ready.  Philip  Ammon  splashed 
in  the  water.  He  followed  to  the  stable  and  exchanged 
boots  there.  He  was  ravenous  for  the  buttermilk,  and 
when  he  stretched  on  the  bench  in  the  arbour  the  flicker- 
ing patches  of  sunlight  so  tantalized  his  tired  eyes,  while 
the  bees  made  such  splendid  music,  he  was  soon  sound 
asleep. 


272  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

When  Elnora  and  her  mother  came  out  with  a  table 
they  stood  a  short  time  looking  at  him.  It  is  probable 
Mrs.  Comstock  voiced  a  united  thought  when  she  said, 
"What  a  refined,  decent-looking  young  manl  How 
proud  his  mother  must  be  of  him!  We  must  be  careful 
what  we  let  him  eat." 

Then  they  returned  to  the  kitchen,  where  Mrs.  Com- 
stock proceeded  to  be  careful.  She  broiled  ham  of  her 
own  surgar-curing,  creamed  potatoes,  served  asparagus 
on  toast,  and  made  a  delicious  strawberry  shortcake.  As 
she  cooked  dandelions  with  bacon,  she  feared  to  serve 
them  to  him,  so  she  made  an  excuse  that  it  took  too  long 
to  prepare  them,  blanched  some  and  made  a  salad. 
When  everything  was  ready  she  touched  Ammon's  sleeve. 

"Best  have  something  to  eat,  lad,  before  you  get  too 
hungry,"  she  said. 

"Please,  hurry  I"  he  begged  laughingly  as  he  held  a 
plate  toward  her  to  be  filled.  "I  thought  I  had  enough 
self-restraint  to  start  out  alone,  but  I  see  I  was  mistaken. 
If  you  would  allow  me,  just  now,  I  am  afraid  I  should  start 
a  fever  again.  I  never  did  smell  food  so  good  as  this. 
It's  mighty  kind  of  you  to  take  me  in.  I  hope  I  will  be 
man  enough  in  a  few  days  to  do  something  worth  while 
in  return." 

Spots  of  sunshine  fell  on  the  white  cloth  and  blue  china; 
the  bees  and  an  occasional  stray  butterfly  came  searching 
for  food.  A  rose-breasted  grosbeak,  released  from  a 
three  hours'  siege  of  brooding,  while  his  independent  mate 
took  her  bath  and  recreation,  mounted  the  top  branch  of. 


MOTHER  LOVE  IS  BESTOWED  273 

a  maple  in  the  west  woods,  from  which  he  serenaded  the 
dinner  party  with  a  joyful  chorus  in  celebration  of  his 
freedom.  Ammon's  eyes  strayed  to  the  beautiful  cabin, 
to  the  mixture  of  flowers  and  vegetables  stretching  down 
to  the  road,  and  to  the  singing  bird  with  his  red-splotched 
breast  of  white,  and  he  said,  "I  can't  realize  now  that  I 
ever  lay  in  ice  packs  in  a  hospital.  How  I  wish  all  the  sick 
folks  could  come  here  to  grow  strong!" 

The  grosbeak  sang  on,  a  big  Turnus  butterfly  sailed 
through  the  arbour  and  poised  over  the  table.  Elnora 
held  up  a  lump  of  sugar  and  the  butterfly,  clinging  to  her 
fingers,  tasted  daintily.  With  eager  eyes  and  parted  lips, 
the  girl  held  steadily.  When  at  last  it  wavered  away, 
"That  made  a  picture!"  said  Ammon.  "Ask  me  some 
other  time  how  I  lost  my  illusions  concerning  butterflies. 
I  always  thought  of  them  in  connection  with  sunshine, 
flower  pollen,  and  fruit  nectar,  until  one  sad  day." 

"I  know!"  laughed  Elnora.  "I've  seen  that,  too,  but 
it  didn't  destroy  any  illusion  for  me.  I  think  just  as  much 
of  the  butterflies  as  ever." 

Then  they  talked  of  flowers,  moths,  dragon-flies,  In- 
dian relics,  and  all  the  natural  wonders  the  swamp  af- 
forded, straying  from  those  subject  to  books  and  school 
work.  When  they  cleared  the  table  Ammon  assisted, 
carrying  several  tray-loads  to  the  kitchen.  He  and 
Elnora  mounted  specimens  while  Mrs.  Comstock  washed 
the  dishes.  Then  she  came  out  with  a  ruffle  she  was 
embroidering. 

"I  wonder  if  I  did  not  see  a  picture  of  you  in  Onabasha, 


274  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

last  night,"  Ammon  said  to  Elnora.  "Aunt  Anna  took 
me  to  call  on  Miss  Brownlee.  She  was  showing  me  her 
crowd  —  of  course,  it  was  you!  But  it  didn't  half  do 
you  justice,  although  it  looked  the  nearest  human  of  any 
of  them.  Miss  Brownlee  is  very  fond  of  you.  She  said 
the  finest  things." 

Then  they  talked  of  Commencement,  and  at  last  Am- 
mon said  he  must  go  or  his  friends  would  become  anxious 
about  him. 

Mrs.  Comstock  brought  him  a  blue  bowl  of  creamy  milk 
and  a  plate  of  bread.  She  stopped  a  passing  team  and 
secured  a  ride  to  the  city  for  him,  as  his  exercise  of  the 
morning  had  been  a  little  too  violent,  and  he  was  forced 
to  admit  he  was  tired. 

"May  I  come  to-morrow  afternoon  and  chase  moths 
a  while?"  he  asked  Mrs.  Comstock  as  he  arose.  "We 
will  'sugar'  a  tree  and  put  a  light  by  it,  if  I  can  get  stuff 
to  make  the  preparation.  Possibly  we  can  take  some 
that  way.  I  always  enjoy  moth  hunting.  I'd  like  to 
help  Miss  Elnora,  and  it  would  be  a  charity  to  me.  I've 
got  to  remain  outdoors  some  place,  and  I'm  quite  sure 
I'd  get  well  faster  here  than  anywhere  else.  Please  say 
I  may  come." 

"I  have  no  objections,  if  Elnora  really  would  like  help," 
said  Mrs.  Comstock. 

In  her  heart  she  wished  he  would  not.  She  wanted  her 
newly  found  treasure  all  to  herself,  for  a  time,  at  least. 
But  Elnora's  were  eager,  shining  eyes.  She  thought  it 
would  be  splendid  to  have  help,  and  great  fun  to  try  book 


MOTHER  LOVE  IS  BESTOWED  275 

methods  for  taking  moths,  so  it  was  arranged.     As  Am- 
nion   rode    away,  Mrs.    Comstock's  eyes  followed    him. 
"What  a  nice  young  man!"  she  said. 
"He  seems  fine,"  agreed  Elnora. 

"He  comes  of  a  good  family,  too.     I've  often  heard 
of  his  father.     He  is  a  great  lawyer." 

"I   am  glad  he  likes  it  here.     I  need  help.     Possi- 
bly  " 

"Possibly  what?" 
"We  can  get  a  great  many  moths." 
"What  did  he  mean  about  the  butterflies?" 
"That  he  always  had  connected  them  with  sunshine, 
flowers,  and  fruits,  and  thought  of  them  as  the  most  ex- 
quisite of  creations;  then  one  day  he  found  some  clus- 
tering thickly  over  carrion." 

"Come  to  think  of  it,  I  have  seen  butterflies " 

"So  had  he,"  laughed  Elnora,  "and  that  is  what  he 
meant." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Wherein    a    New    Position    Is    Tendered    Elnora, 
and   Philip   Ammon   Is    Shown   Limberlost   Violets 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Comstock  called  to  Elnora, 
"The  mail  carrier  stopped  at  our  box." 

Elnora  ran  down  the  walk  and  came  back  carrying  an 
official  looking  letter.     She  tore  it  open  and  read : 

My  dear  Miss  Comstock: 

At  the  weekly  meeting  of  the  Onabasha  School  Board  last  night,  it 
was  decided  to  add  the  position  of  Lecturer  on  Natural  History  to  our 
corps  of  city  teachers.  It  will  be  the  duty  of  this  person  to  spend 
two  hours  a  week  in  each  of  the  grade  schools  exhibiting  and  explain- 
ing specimens  of  the  most  prominent  objects  in  nature:  animals,  birds, 
insects,  flowers,  vines,  shrubs,  bushes  and  trees.  These  specimens'and 
lectures  should  be  appropriate  to  the  seasons  and  the  comprehension 
of  the  grades:  This  position  was  unanimously  voted  to  you.  I 
think  you  will  find  the  work  delightful  and  much  easier  than  the 
routine  grind  of  the  other  teachers.  It  is  my  advice  that  you  accept 
and  begin  to  prepare  yourself  at  once.  Your  salary  will  be  $750  a 
year,  and  you  will  be  allowed  $200  for  expenses  in  procuring  speci- 
mens and  books.  Let  us  know  at  once  if  you  want  the  position,  as  it 
is  going  to  be  difficult  to  fill  satisfactorily  if  you  do  not. 

Very  truly  yours, 
David  Thompson,  President,  Onabasha  Schools. 

"I  hardly  understand,"  marvelled  Mrs.  Comstock. 

276 


A  NEW  POSITION  IS  TENDERED         277 

"It  is  a  new  position.  They  never  have  had  anything 
like  it  before.  I  suspect  it  arose  from  the  help  I've  been 
giving  the  grade  teachers  in  their  nature  work.  They  are 
trying  to  teach  the  children  something,  and  half  the  in- 
structors don't  know  a  blue  jay  from  a  kingfisher,  a  beech 
leaf  from  an  elm,  or  a  wasp  from  a  hornet." 

"Well,  do  you?"  anxiously  inquired  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"Indeed,  I  do!"  laughed  Elnora,  "and  several  other 
things  beside.  When  Freckles  bequeathed  me  the  swamp, 
he  gave  me  a  bigger  inheritance  than  he  knew.  While 
you  have  thought  I  was  wandering  aimlessly,  I  have  been 
following  a  definite  plan,  studying  hard,  and  storing  up 
the  stuff  that  will  earn  these  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars.  Mother,  dear,  I  am  going  to  accept  this,  of 
course.  The  work  will  be  a  delight.  I'd  love  it  most  of 
anything  in  teaching.  You  must  help  me.  We  must  find 
nests,  eggs,  leaves,  queer  formations  in  plants  and  rare 
flowers.  I  must  have  flower  boxes  made  for  each  of  the 
rooms  and  filled  with  wild  things.  I  should  begin  to 
gather  specimens  this  very  day." 

Elnora  was  on  her  feet.  Her  face  was  flushed  and  her 
eyes  bright. 

"Oh,  what  great  work  that  will  be!"  she  cried.  "You 
must  go  with  me  so  you  can  see  the  little  faces  when  I  tell 
them  how  the  goldfinch  builds  its  nest,  and  how  the  bees 
make  honey.' 

So  Elnora  and  her  mother  went  into  the  woods  behind 
the  cabin  to  study  nature. 

"I  think,"  said  Elnora,  "the  idea  is  to  begin  with  fall 


278  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

things  in  the  fall,  keeping  to  the  seasons  throughout  the 
year." 

"What  are  fall  things?"  inquired  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"Oh,  fringed  gentians,  asters,  ironwort,  every  fall 
flower,  leaves  from  every  tree  and  vine,  what  makes  them 
change  colour,  abandoned  bird  nests,  winter  quarters  of 
caterpillars  and  insects,  what  becomes  of  the  butterflies 
and  grasshoppers  —  just  myriads  of  stuff.  I  never  can 
use  the  half  there  will  be  to  show.  I  shall  have  to  be 
very  wise  to  select  the  things  it  will  be  most  beneficial  for 
the  children  to  learn." 

"Can  I  really  help  you?"  Mrs.  Comstock's  strong  face 
was  pathetic. 

"  Indeed,  yes ! "  cried  Elnora.  "  I  never  can  get  through 
it  alone.  There  will  be  an  immense  amount  of  work  con- 
nected with  securing  and  preparing  specimens." 

Mrs.  Comstock  lifted  her  head  proudly  and  began  do- 
ing business  at  once.  Her  sharp  eyes  ranged  from  earth 
to  heaven.  She  investigated  everything,  asking  in- 
numerable questions.  By  noon  she  was  as  eager  and 
interested  as  Elnora.  The  morning  was  filled  with  hap- 
piness for  both  of  them.  Near  noon  Mrs.  Comstock  took 
the  specimens  they  had  collected,  and  went  to  prepare 
dinner,  while  Elnora  followed  the  woods  down  to  Sin- 
tons'  to  show  her  letter. 

She  had  to  explain  what  became  of  her  moths,  and  why 
college  would  have  to  be  abandoned  for  that  year,  but 
Margaret  and  Wesley  vowed  not  to  tell.  Wesley  waved 
the  letter  excitedly,  explaining  it  to  Margaret  as  if  it  was 


A  NEW  POSITION  IS  TENDERED         279 

a  personal  possession.  Margaret  was  deeply  impressed, 
while  Billy  volunteered  first  aid  in  gathering  material. 

"Now,  anything  you  want  in  the  ground,  Snap  can 
dig  it  out,"  he  said.  "Uncle  Wesley  and  I  found  a  hole 
three  times  as  big  as  Snap,  that  he  dug  at  the  roots  of  a 
tree." 

"We  will  train  him  to  hunt  pupae  cases,"  said  Elnora. 

"Are  you  going  to  the  woods  this  afternoon?"  asked 
Billy. 

"Yes,"  answered  Elnora.  "Dr.  Ammon's  nephew 
from  Chicago  is  visiting  in  Onabasha.  He  is  going  to 
show  me  how  men  put  some  sort  of  compound  on  a  tree, 
hang  a  light  by  it,  and  take  moths  that  way.  It  will  be 
interesting  to  watch  and  learn." 

"May  I  come?"  asked  Billy. 

"Of  course,  you  may  come!"  answered  Elnora. 

"Is  this  nephew  of  Dr.  Ammon  a  young  man?"  in- 
quired Margaret. 

"About  twenty-six,  I  should  think,"  said  Elnora. 
"He  said  he  had  been  out  of  college  and  at  work  in  his 
father's  law  office  three  years." 

"Does  he  seem  nice?"  asked  Margaret,  and  Wesley 
smiled. 

"Finest  kind  of  a  person,"  said  Elnora.  "He  can 
teach  me  so  much.  It  is  very  interesting  to  hear  him 
talk.  He  knows  considerable  about  moths  that  will  be 
a  help  to  me.  He  had  a  fever  and  he  has  to  stay  out- 
doors until  he  grows  strong  again." 

"Billy,  I  guess  you  better  help  me  this  afternoon,"  said 


28o  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Margaret.  "Maybe  Elnora  had  rather  not  bother  with 
you." 

"There's  no  reason  on  earth  why  Billy  should  not 
come!"  cried  Elnora,  and  Wesley  smiled  again. 

"I  must  hurry  home  and  get  my  dinner  or  I  won't  be 
ready,"  she  added. 

Hastening  down  the  road  with  glowing  face  she  en- 
tered the  cabin. 

"I  thought  you  never  would  come,"  said  Mrs.  Corn- 
stock.  "If  you  don't  hurry  Mr.  Ammon  will  be  here  be- 
fore you  get  dressed." 

"I  forgot  about  him  until  just  now,"  said  Elnora.  "I 
am  not  going  to  dress.  He's  not  coming  to  visit.  We  are 
only  going  to  the  woods  for  more  specimens.  I  can't 
wear  anything  that  requires  care.  The  limbs  take  the 
most  dreadful  liberties  with  hair  and  clothing." 

Mrs.  Comstock  opened  her  lips,  looked  at  Elnora  and 
closed  them.  In  her  heart  she  was  pleased  that  the 
girl  was  so  interested  in  her  work  that  she  had  forgotten 
Philip  Amnion's  coming.  But  it  did  seem  to  her  that 
such  a  pleasant  young  man  should  have  been  greeted  by 
a  girl  in  a  fresh  dress.  "If  she  isn't  disposed  to  primp  at 
the  coming  of  a  man,  heaven  forbid  that  I  should  be  the 
one  to  start  her,"  thought  Mrs.  Comstock.  So  she  did 
the  primping  in  honour  of  the  occasion.  It  consisted  of 
a  fresh  gingham  dress  and  hair  coiled  a  little  more  loosely 
than  usual. 

Ammon  came  whistling  down  the  walk  between  the 
cinnamon  pinks,  pansies,  and  strawberries.     He  carried 


A  NEW  POSITION  IS  TENDERED         281 

several  packages,  while  his  face  flushed  with  more  colour 
than  on  the  previous  day. 

"Only  see  what  has  happened  to  me!"  cried  Elnora, 
offering  her  letter. 

"I'll  wager  I  know!"  answered  Ammon.  "Isn't  it 
great!  Every  one  in  Onabasha  is  talking  about  it.  At 
last  there  is  something  new  under  the  sun.  All  of  them 
are  pleased.  They  think  you'll  make  a  big  success.  This 
will  give  an  incentive  to  work.  In  a  few  days  more  I'll 
be  myself  again,  and  we'll  overturn  the  fields  and  woods 
around  here." 

He  went  on  to  congratulate  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"Aren't  you  proud  of  her  though?"  he  asked.  "You 
should  hear  what  folks  are  saying!  They  say  she  created 
the  necessity  for  the  position,  and  every  one  seems  to  feel 
that  it  is  a  necessity.  Now,  if  she  succeeds,  and  she  will, 
all  of  the  other  city  schools  will  have  such  departments, 
and  first  thing  you  know  she  will  have  made  the  whole 
world  just  a  little  better.  Let  me  rest  a  few  seconds;  my 
feet  are  acting  up  again.  Then  we  will  cook  the  com- 
pound and  put  it  to  cool." 

He  laughed  as  he  sat  breathing  shortly. 

"It  doesn't  seem  possible  that  a  fellow  could  lose  his 
strength  like  this.  My  knees  are  actually  trembling, 
but  I'll  be  all  right  in  a  minute.  Uncle  Doc  said  I  could 
come.  I  told  him  how  you  took  care  of  me,  and  he  said 
I  would  be  safe  here." 

1  Then  he  began  unwrapping  packages  and  explaining 
to  Mrs.  Comstock  how  to  cook  the  compound  to  attract 


282  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

the  moths.  He  followed  her  into  the  kitchen,  kindled 
the  fire,  and  stirred  the  preparation  as  he  talked.  While 
the  mixture  cooled,  he  and  Elnora  walked  through  the 
vegetable  garden  behind  the  cabin  and  strayed  from  there 
into  the  woods. 

"What  about  college?"  he  asked.  "Miss  Brownlee 
said  you  were  going." 

"I  had  hoped  to,"  replied  Elnora,  "but  I  had  a  streak 
of  dreadful  luck,  so  I'll  have  to  wait  until  next  year.  If 
you  won't  speak  of  it  I'll  tell  you." 

Ammon  promised,  and  Elnora  recited  the  history  of 
the  Yellow  Emperor.  She  was  so  interested  in  doing  the 
Emperor  justice  she  did  not  notice  how  many  personali- 
ties went  into  the  story.  A  few  pertinent  questions  told 
Ammon  the  rest.  He  looked  at  the  girl  in  wonder.  In 
face  and  form  she  was  as  lovely  as  any  one  of  her  age  and 
type  he  ever  had  seen.  Her  school  work  far  surpassed 
that  of  most  girls  of  her  age  he  knew.  She  differed  in 
other  ways.  This  vast  store  of  learning  she  had  gathered 
from  field  and  forest  was  a  wealth  of  attraction  no  other 
girl  possessed.  Her  frank,  matter-of-fact  manner  was 
an  inheritance  from  her  mother,  but  there  was  something 
more.  Once,  as  they  talked,  he  thought  "sympathy" 
was  the  word  to  describe  it  and  again  "comprehension." 
She  seemed  to  possess  a  large  sense  of  brotherhood  for 
all  human  and  animate  creatures.  She  spoke  to  him  as 
if  she  had  known  him  all  her  life.  She  talked  to  the  gros- 
beak in  exactly  the  same  manner  as  she  laid  strawberries 
and  potato  bugs  on  the  fence  for  his  family.     She  did 


A  NEW  POSITION  IS  TENDERED        283 

not  swerve  an  inch  from  her  way  when  a  snake  slid  by  her, 
while  the  squirrels  came  down  from  the  trees  and  took 
corn  from  her  fingers.  She  might  as  well  have  been  a  boy, 
so  lacking  was  she  in  any  touch  of  feminine  coquetry 
toward  him.     He  studied  her  wonderingly. 

As  they  went  along  the  path  they  reached  a  large  slime- 
covered  pool  surrounded  by  decaying  stumps  and  logs 
thickly  covered   with  water   hyacinths   and   blue  flags. 
Ammon  stopped. 
1  "Is  that  the  place?"  he  asked. 

Elnora  assented. 

"The  doctor  told  you?" 

"Yes.     It  was  tragic.  Is  that  pool  really  bottomless?" 

"  So  far  as  we  ever  have  been  able  to  discover." 

Ammon  stood  looking  at  the  water,  while  the  log, 
sweet  grasses,  thickly  sprinkled  with  blue  flag  bloom,  over 
which  wild  bees  clambered,  swayed  around  his  feet.  Then 
he  turned  to  the  girl.  She  had  worked  hard.  The  same 
lavender  dress  she  had  worn  the  previous  day  clung  to  her 
in  limp  condition.  But  she  was  as  evenly  coloured  and 
of  as  fine  grain  as  a  wild  rose  petal;  her  hair  was  really 
brown,  but  never  was  such  hair  touched  with  a  redder 
glory,  while  her  heavy  arching  brows  added  a  look  of 
strength  to  her  big  gray-blue  eyes. 

"And  you  were  born  here?" 

He  had  not  intended  to  voice  that  thought. 

"Yes,"  she  said  looking  into  his  eyes.  "Just  in  time 
to  prevent  my  mother  from  saving  the  life  of  my  father. 
She  came  near  never  forgiving  me." 


284  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Ah,  cruel!"  cried  Ammon. 

"I  find  a  great  deal  in  life  that  is  cruel,  from  our  stand- 
points," said  Elnora.  "It  takes  the  large  wisdom  of  the 
Unfathomable,  the  philosophy  of  the  Almighty,  to  bear 
some  of  it.  But  there  is  always  right  somewhere,  and  at 
last  it  seems  to  come." 

"Will  it  come  to  you?"  asked  Ammon,  who  found  him- 
self suffering  intensely. 

"It  has  come,"  said  the  girl  serenely.  "It  came  a 
week  ago.  It  came  in  fullest  measure  when  my  mother 
ceased  to  regret  that  I  had  been  born.  Now,  work  that 
I  love  has  come  —  that  should  constitute  happiness. 
A  little  farther  along  is  my  violet  bed.  I  want  you  to 
see  it." 

As  Philip  Ammon  followed  he  definitely  settled  upon 
the  name  of  the  unusual  feature  of  Elnora's  face.  It 
should  be  called  "experience."  She  had  known  hard 
experiences  early  in  life.  Suffering  had  been  her  familiar 
more  than  joy.  He  watched  her  with  intense  earnest- 
ness, his  heart  deeply  moved.  She  led  him  into  a  swampy 
half-open  space  in  the  woods,  stopped  and  stepped  aside. 
Ammon  uttered  a  cry  of  surprised  delight. 

A  few  decaying  logs  were  scattered  around,  the  grass 
grew  in  tufts  long  and  fine.  Blue  flags  waved,  clusters 
of  cowslips  nodded  gold  heads,  but  the  whole  earth  was 
purple  with  a  thick  blanket  of  violets  nodding  from  stems 
a  foot  in  length.  Elnora  knelt,  and  slipping  her  fingers 
through  the  leaves  and  grasses  to  the  roots,  gathered  a 
few  violets  and  gave  them  to  Philip. 


A  NEW  POSITION  IS  TENDERED         285 

"Can  your  city  greenhouses  surpass  them?"  she  asked. 

Ammon  sat  on  a  log  to  examine  the  blooms. 

"They  are  superb!"  he  said.  "I  never  saw  such  length 
of  stem  or  such  rank  leaves,  while  the  flowers  are  the  deep- 
est blue,  the  truest  violet  I  ever  saw  growing  wild.  They 
are  coloured  exactly  like  the  eyes  of  the  girl  I  am  going  to 
marry." 

Elnora  handed  him  several  others  to  add  to  those  he 
held. 

"She  must  have  wonderful  eyes,"  she  commented. 

"No  other  blue  eyes  are  quite  so  beautiful,"  he  said. 
"  In  fact,  she  is  altogether  lovely." 

"It  is  customary  for  a  man  to  think  the  girl  he  is  going 
to  marry  lovely.     I  wonder  if  I  should  find  her  so." 

"You  would,"  said  AmmOn.  "No  one  ever  fails  to. 
She  is  tall  as  you,  very  slender,  but  perfectly  rounded; 
you  know  about  her  eyes;  her  hair  is  black  and  wavy  — 
while  her  complexion  is  clear  and  flushed  with  red." 

Elnora  knelt  among  the  flowers  as  she  looked  at  him. 

"Why,  she  must  be  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  the  whole 
world!"  she  cried. 

Ammon  laughed. 

"No,  indeed!"  he  said.  "She  is  not  a  particle  better 
looking  in  her  way  than  you  are  in  yours.  She  is  a  type 
of  dark  beauty,  but  you  are  just  as  perfect.  She  is  un- 
usual in  her  combination  of  black  hair  and  violet  eyes, 
although  every  one  thinks  them  black  at  a  little  distance. 
You  are  quite  as  unusual  with  your  fair  face,  black  brows 
and  brown  hair;  indeed,  I  know  many  people  who  would 


286  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

prefer  your  bright  head  to  her  dark  one.  It's  all  a  ques- 
tion of  taste  —  and  being  engaged  to  the  girl,"  he  added. 

"That  would  be  likely  to  prejudice  one,"  laughed  El- 
nora. 

"Edith  has  a  birthday  soon;  if  these  last  will  you  let  me 
have  a  box  of  them  to  send  her?" 

"I  will  help  gather  and  pack  them  for  you,  so  they  will 
carry  nicely.     Does  she  hunt  moths  with  you?" 

Back  went  Philip  Ammon's  head  in  a  gale  of  laughter. 

"No!"  he  cried.  "She  says  they  are  'creepy.'  She 
would  scream  herself  into  a  spasm  if  she  were  compelled 
to  touch  those  young  caterpillars  I  saw  you  handling  yes- 
terday." 

"Why  would  she?"  marvelled  Elnora.  "Haven't  you 
told  her  that  they  are  perfectly  clean,  helpless,  and  harm- 
less as  so  much  animate  velvet?" 

"No,  I  have  not  told  her.  She  wouldn't  care  enough 
about  caterpillars  to  listen." 

"In  what  is  she  interested?" 

"What  interests  Edith  Carr?  Let  me  think!  First, 
I  believe  she  takes  pride  in  being  just  a  little  handsomer 
and  better  dressed  than  any  girl  of  her  set.  She  is  in- 
terested in  having  a  beautiful  home,  fine  appointments 
about  her,  in  being  petted,  praised,  and  the  acknowledged 
leader  of  society.  She  likes  to  find  new  things  which 
amuse  her,  and  to  always  and  in  all  circumstances  have 
her  own  way  about  everything." 

"Good  gracious!"  cried  Elnora,  staring  at  him.  "But 
what  does  she  do?     How  does  she  spend  her  time?" 


A  NEW  POSITION  IS  TENDERED         287 

"'Spend  her  time!'"  repeated  Ammon.  "Well, 
she  would  call  that  a  joke.  Her  days  are  never  long 
enough.  There  is  endless  shopping,  to  find  the  pretty 
things;  regular  visits  to  the  dressmakers,  calls,  parties, 
theatres,  entertainments.  She  is  always  rushed.  I 
never  get  to  see  half  as  much  of  her  as  I  would 
like." 

"But  I  mean  work,"  persisted  Elnora.  "In  what  is 
she  interested  that  is  useful  to  the  world?" 

"Me!"  cried  Ammon  promptly. 

"I  can  understand  that,"  laughed  Elnora.     "What  I 

can't  understand  is  how  you  can  be  in "     She  stopped 

short  in  confusion,  but  she  saw  that  he  had  finished 
the  sentence  as  she  had  intended.  "I  beg  your  pardon!" 
she  cried.  "I  didn't  mean  to  say  that.  But  I  cannot 
understand  these  people  I  hear  about  who  live  only  for 
their  own  amusement.  Perhaps  it  is  very  great;  I'll 
never  have  a  chance  to  know.  To  me,  it  seems  the  only 
pleasure  in  this  world  worth  having  is  the  joy  we  get  out  of 
living  for  those  we  love,  and  those  we  can  help.  I  hope 
you  are  not  angry  with  me." 

Ammon  sat  silently  looking  far  away,  with  deep  thought 
in  his  eyes. 

"You  are  angry,"  faltered  Elnora. 

His  look  came  back  to  her  as  she  knelt  before  him 
among  the  flowers  and  he  gazed  at  her  steadily. 

"No  doubt  I  should  be,"  he  said,  "but  the  fact  is  I  am 
not.  I  cannot  understand  a  life  purely  for  personal 
pleasure  myself.     But  she  is  only  a  girl,  and  this  is  her 


288  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

playtime.  When  she  is  a  woman  in  her  own  home,  then 
she  will  be  different,  will  she  not?" 

Elnora  never  resembled  her  mother  so  closely  as  when 
she  answered  that  question. 

"I  would  have  to  be  well  acquainted  with  her  to  know, 
but  I  should  hope  so.  To  make  a  real  home  for  a  tired 
business  man  is  a  very  different  kind  of  work  from  that 
required  to  be  a  leader  of  society.  It  demands  different 
talent  and  education.  Of  course,  she  means  to  change, 
or  she  would  not  have  promised  to  make  a  home  for  you. 
I  suspect  our  dope  is  cool  now,  let's  go  try  for  some 
butterflies." 

As  they  went  back  along  the  path  together  Elnora 
talked  of  many  things,  but  Ammon  answered  absently. 
Evidently  he  was  thinking  of  something  else.  But  the 
moth  bait  recalled  him  and  he  was  ready  for  work  as  they 
made  their  way  back  to  the  woods.  He  wanted  to  try 
the  Limberlost,  but  Elnora  was  firm  about  keeping  on 
home  ground.  She  did  not  tell  him  that  lights  hung 
in  the  swamp  would  be  a  signal  to  call  up  a  band  of 
men  whose  presence  she  dreaded.  So  they  set  out, 
Ammon  carrying  the  dope,  Elnora  the  net,  Billy  and 
Mrs.  Comstock  following  with  cyanide  boxes  and  lan- 
terns. 

First  they  tried  for  butterflies  and  captured  several 
fine  ones  with  little  trouble.  They  also  called  swarms  of 
ants,  beetles,  bees,  and  flies.  When  it  grew  dusk,  Mrs. 
Comstock  and  Ammon  went  to  prepare  supper.  Elnora 
and  Billy  remained  until  the  butterflies  went  to  bed. 


A  NEW  POSITION  IS  TENDERED        289 

Then  they  lighted  the  lanterns,  repainted  the  trees  and 
followed  the  home  trail. 

"Do  you  'spect  you'll  get  just  a  lot  of  moths?"  asked 
Billy,  as  he  walked  beside  Elnora. 

"I  am  sure  I  hardly  know,"  said  the  girl.  "This  is  a 
new  way  for  me.  Perhaps  they  will  come  to  the  lights, 
but  few  moths  eat;  and  I  have  some  doubt  about  those 
which  the  lights  attract  settling  on  the  right  trees.  Maybe 
the  smell  of  that  dope  will  draw  them.  Between  us, 
Billy,  I  think  I  like  the  old  way  best.  If  I  can  find  a  hid- 
den moth,  slip  up  and  catch  it  unawares,  or  take  it  in  full 
flight,  it's  my  captive,  and  I  can  keep  it  until  it  dies 
naturally.  But  this  way  you  seem  to  get  it  under  false 
pretences,  it  has  no  chance,  and  it  will  probably  ruin  its 
wings  struggling  for  freedom  before  morning." 

"Well,  any  moth  ought  to  be  proud  to  be  taken  any- 
way, by  you,"  said  Billy.  "Just  look  what  you  do! 
You  can  make  everybody  love  them.  People  even  quit 
hating  caterpillars  when  they  see  you  handle  them  and 
hear  you  tell  all  about  them.  You  just  must  have  some 
to  show  people  how  they  are.  It's  not  like  killing  things 
to  see  if  you  can,  or  because  you  want  to  eat  them,  the 
way  most  men  kill  birds.  I  think  it  is  right  for  you  to 
take  enough  for  collections,  to  show  city  people,  and  to 
illustrate  the  Bird  Woman's  books.  You  go  on  and  take 
them!  The  moths  don't  care.  They're  glad  to  have 
you.     They  like  it!" 

"Billy,  I  see  your  future,"  said  Elnora.  "We  will 
educate  you  and  send  you  up  to  Mr.  Ammon  to  make 


^90  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

a  great  lawyer.  You'd  beat  the  world  as  a  special 
pleader.  You  actually  make  me  feel  that  I  am  doing  the 
moths  a  kindness  to  take  them." 

"And  so  you  are!"  cried  Billy.  "Why,  just  from 
what  you  have  taught  them,  Uncle  Wesley  and  Aunt 
Margaret  never  think  of  killing  a  caterpillar  until  they 
look  whether  it's  the  beautiful  June  moth  kind  or  the 
horrid  tent  ones.  That's  what  you  can  do.  You  just 
go  ahead!" 

"Billy,  you  are  a  jewel!"  cried  Elnora,  throwing  her 
arm  across  his  shoulders  as  they  came  down  the  path. 

"My,  I  was  scared!"  said  Billy  with  a  deep  breath. 

"Scared?"  questioned  Elnora. 

"Yes,  sir-ee!  Aunt  Margaret  scared  me.  May  I  ask 
you  a  question?" 

"Of  course,  you  may!" 

"Is  that  man  going  to  be  your  beau?" 

"Billy!     No!     What  made  you  think  such  a  thing?" 

"Aunt  Margaret  said  likely  he  would  fall  in  love  with 
you,  and  you  wouldn't  want  me  around  any  more.  Oh, 
but  I  was  scared!     It  isn't  so,  is  it?" 

"Indeed,  no!" 

"I  am  your  beau,  ain't  I?" 

"Surely  you  are!"  said  Elnora,  tightening  her  arm. 

"I  do  hope  Aunt  Kate  has  ginger  cookies,"  said  Billy 
with  a  little  skip  of  delight. 


CHAPTER  XV 

Wherein    Mrs.    Comstock    Faces    the    Almighty, 
and  Philip  Ammon  Writes  a  Letter 

Mrs.  Comstock  and  Elnora  were  finishing  breakfast 
the  next  morning  when  they  heard  a  cheery  whistle  down 
the  road.   Elnora  with  surprised  eyes  looked  at  her  mother. 

"Could  that  be  Mr.  Ammon?"  she  questioned. 

"I  did  not  expect  him  so  soon,"  commented  Mrs.  Com- 
stock. 

It  was  just  sunrise,  but  the  musician  was  Philip  Am- 
mon.    He  looked  stronger  than  yesterday. 

"I  hope  I  am  not  too  early,"  he  said.  "I  am  consumed 
with  anxiety  to  learn  if  we  have  made  a  catch.  If  we 
have,  we  should  beat  the  birds  to  it.  I  promised  Uncle 
Doc  to  put  on  my  waders  and  keep  dry  for  a  few  days  yet, 
when  I  go  to  the  woods.  Let's  hurry!  I  am  afraid  of 
crows.     There  might  be  a  rare  moth." 

The  sun  was  topping  the  Limberlost  when  they  started. 
As  they  neared  the  place  Ammon  stopped. 

"Now  we  must  use  great  caution,"  he  said.  "The 
lights  and  the  odours  always  attract  numbers  that  don't 
settle  on  the  baited  trees.  Every  bush,  shrub,  and  limb 
may  hide  a  specimen  we  want." 

291 


292  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

So  they  approached  with  much  care. 

"There  is  something,  anyway!"  cried  Ammon,  who 
was  leading  the  way. 

"There  are  moths!     I  can  see  them!"  exulted  Elnora. 

"Those  you  see  are  fast  enough.  It's  the  ones  for 
which  you  must  search  that  will  get  away.  The  grasses 
are  dripping,  and  I  have  boots,  so  you  look  along  the 
path  while  I  take  the  outside,"  suggested  Ammon. 

Mrs.  Comstock  wanted  to  hunt  moths,  but  she  was 
timid  about  making  a  wrong  movement,  so  she  wisely  sat 
on  a  log  and  watched  Ammon  and  Elnora  to  learn  how 
they  proceeded.  Back  in  the  deep  woods  a  hermit  thrush 
was  singing  his  chant  to  the  rising  sun.  Orioles  were 
sowing  the  pure,  sweet  air  with  notes  of  gold,  poured  out 
while  on  wing.  The  robins  were  only  chirping  now,  for 
their  morning  songs  had  awakened  all  the  other  birds  an 
hour  ago.  Scolding  red-wings  tilted  on  half  the  bushes. 
Excepting  late  species  of  haws,  tree  bloom  was  almost 
gone,  but  wild  flowers  made  the  path  border  and  all  the 
wood  floor  a  riot  of  colour.  Elnora,  born  among  such 
scenes,  worked  eagerly,  but  to  the  city  man,  shortly  from 
a  hospital,  they  seemed  too  good  to  miss.  He  frequently 
stooped  to  examine  a  flower  face,  paused  to  listen  in- 
tently to  the  thrush  or  lifted  his  head  to  see  the  gold  flash 
which  accompanied  the  oriole's  trailing  notes.  So  Elnora 
uttered  the  first  cry,  as  she  softly  lifted  branches  and 
peered  among  the  grasses. 

"My  find!"  she  called.     "Bring  the  box,  mother!" 

Ammon  came  hurrying  also.     When  they  reached  her 


FACES  THE  ALMIGHTY  293 

she  stood  on  the  path  holding  a  pair  of  moths.  Her  eyes 
were  wide  with  excitement,  her  cheeks  pink,  her  red  lips 
parted,  and  on  the  hand  she  held  out  to  them  clung  a  pair 
of  delicate  blue-green  moths,  with  white  bodies,  and 
touches  of  lavender  and  straw  colour.  All  about  her  lay 
flower-brocaded  grasses,  behind  the  deep  green  back- 
ground of  the  forest,  while  the  sun  slowly  sifted  gold  from 
heaven  to  burnish  her  hair.  Mrs.  Comstock  heard  a 
sharp  breath  behind  her. 

"Oh,  what  a  picture!"  exulted  Ammon  at  her  shoulder. 
"She  is  absolutely  and  altogether  lovely!  I'd  give  a  small 
fortune  for  that  faithfully  set  on  canvas!" 

He  picked  the  box  from  Mrs.  Comstock's  fingers  and 
slowly  advanced  with  it.  Elnora  held  down  her  hand  and 
transferred  the  moths.  Ammon  closed  the  box  carefully, 
but  the  watching  mother  saw  that  his  eyes  were  following 
the  girl's  face.  He  was  not  making  the  slightest  attempt 
to  conceal  what  he  felt. 

"I  wonder  if  a  woman  ever  did  anything  lovelier  than 
to  find  a  pair  of  Luna  moths  on  a  forest  path,  early  on  a 
perfect  June  morning?"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Comstock,  as  he 
returned  the  box. 

She  glanced  at  Elnora.  The  girl  had  gone  back  to 
work,  and  was  intently  searching  the  bushes. 

"Look  here,  young  man,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "You 
seem  to  find  that  girl  of  mine  about  right." 

"I  could  suggest  no  improvement,"  said  Ammon.  "I 
never  saw  a  more  attractive  girl  anywhere.  She  seems 
absolutely  perfect  to  me." 


294  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Then  suppose  you  don't  start  any  scheme  calcu- 
lated to  spoil  her!"  suggested  Mrs.  Comstock  dryly. 
"I  don't  think  you  can,  or  that  any  man  could,  but  I'm 
not  taking  any  risks.  You  asked  to  come  here  to  help  in 
this  work.  We  are  both  glad  to  have  you,  if  you  con- 
fine yourself  to  work;  but  it's  the  least  you  can  do  to 
leave  us  as  you  find  us." 

"I  beg  your  pardon!"  said  Ammon.  "I  intended 
no  offence.  I  admire  her  as  I  admire  any  perfect  crea- 
tion." 

"And  nothing  in  all  this  world  spoils  the  average  girl 
so  quickly  and  so  surely,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  She 
raised  her  voice.  "Elnora,  fasten  up  that  tag  of  hair 
over  your  left  ear.  These  bushes  muss  you  so  you  re- 
mind me  of  a  sheep  poking  its  nose  through  a  hedge 
fence." 

Mrs.  Comstock  started  down  the  path  toward  her  log 
again,  and  as  she  reached  it  she  called  sharply,  "Elnora, 
come  here!     I  believe  I  have  found  something  myself." 

The  "something"  was  a  Citheronia  Regalis  which  had 
just  emerged  from  its  case  on  the  soft  earth  by  the  log. 
It  climbed  up  the  wood,  its  stout  legs  dragging  a  big 
pursy  body,  while  it  wildly  flapped  tiny  wings  the  size  of 
a  man's  thumb-nail.  Elnora  gave  one  look  and  a  cry 
which  brought  Ammon. 

"That's  the  rarest  moth  in  America!"  he  announced. 
"Mrs.  Comstock,  you've  gone  up  head.  You  can  put 
that  in  a  box  with  a  screen  cover  to-night,  and  attract  a 
half-dozen,  possibly." 


FACES  THE  ALMIGHTY  295 

"Is  it  rare,  Elnora?"  inquired  Mrs.  Comstock,  as  if  no 
one  else  knew. 

"It  surely  is,"  answered  Elnora.  "If  we  can  find  it  a 
mate  to-night,  it  will  lay  from  two  hundred  and  fifty  to 
three  hundred  eggs  to-morrow.  With  any  luck  at  all  I 
can  raise  two  hundred  caterpillars  from  them.  I  did 
once  before.     And  they  are  worth  a  dollar  apiece." 

"Was  the  one  I  killed  like  that?"  gasped  Mrs.  Com- 
stock. 

"No.  That  was  a  different  moth,  but  its  life  proc- 
esses were  the  same  as  this.  The  Bird  Woman  calls  this 
the  King  of  the  Poets." 

"Why  does  she?" 

"Because  it  is  named  for  Citheron  who  was  a  poet,  and 
regalis  refers  to  king.  You  mustn't  touch  it  or  you  may 
stunt  wing  development.  You  watch  and  don't  let  that 
moth  out  of  sight,  or  anything  come  near  it.  When  the 
wings  are  expanded  and  hardened  we  will  put  it  in  a 
box." 

"  I  am  afraid  it  will  race  itself  to  death,"  objected  Mrs. 
Comstock. 

"That's  a  part  of  the  game,"  said  Ammon.  "It  is 
starting  circulation  now.  When  the  right  moment  comes, 
it  will  stop  and  develop  its  wings.  If  you  watch  closely 
you  can  see  them  expand." 

Presently  the  moth  found  a  rough  projection  of  bark  and 
clung  with  its  feet,  back  down,  its  wings  hanging.  The 
body  was  an  unusual  orange  red,  the  tiny  wings  were  gray, 
striped  with  the  red  and  splotched  here  and  there  withu 


296  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

markings  of  canary  yellow.  Mrs.  Comstock  watched 
breathlessly.  Presently  she  slipped  off  the  log  and  knelt 
to  get  a  better  view. 

"Are  its  wings  growing?"  called  Elnora. 

"They  are  getting  larger  and  the  markings  coming 
stronger  every  minute." 

"Let's  watch,  too,"  said  Elnora  to  Ammon. 

They  came  and  looked  over  Mrs.  Comstock's  shoulder. 
Lower  drooped  the  gay  wings,  wider  they  spread,  brighter 
grew  the  markings  as  if  laid  off  in  geometrical  patterns. 
They  could  hear  Mrs.  Comstock's  tense  breath  and  see  her 
absorbed  expression. 

"Young  people,"  she  said  solemnly,  "if  your  studying 
science  and  the  elements  has  ever  led  you  to  feel  that 
things  just  happen,  kind  of  evolve  by  chance,  as  it  were, 
this  sight  will  be  good  for  you.  Maybe  earth  and  air 
accumulate,  but  it  takes  the  wisdom  of  the  Almighty  God 
to  devise  the  wing  of  a  moth.  If  there  ever  was  a  miracle, 
this  whole  process  is  one.  Now,  as  I  understand  it,  this 
creature  is  going  to  keep  on  spreading  those  wings  until 
they  grow  to  size  and  harden  to  strength  sufficient  to 
bear  its  body.  Then  it  flies  away,  mates  with  its  kind, 
lays  its  eggs  on  the  leaves  of  a  certain  tree,  and  the  eggs 
hatch  tiny  caterpillars  which  eat  just  that  kind  of  leaves, 
and  the  worms  grow  and  grow,  and  take  on  different 
forms  and  colours  until  at  last  they  are  big  caterpillars 
six  inches  long,  with  large  horns.  Then  they  burrow  into 
the  earth,  build  a  house  around  themselves  from  material 
which  is  inside  them,  and  lie  through  rain  and  freezing  cold 


FACES  THE  ALMIGHTY  297 

for  months.  A  year  from  egg  laying  they  come  out  like 
this,  and  begin  the  process  all  over  again.  They  don't 
eat,  they  don't  see  distinctly,  they  live  but  a  few  days,  and 
fly  only  at  night;  then  they  drop  off  easy,  but  the  process 
goes  on." 

A  shivering  movement  went  over  the  moth.  The  wings 
drooped  and  spread  wider.  Mrs.  Comstock  fell  into  soft, 
awed  tones. 

"There  never  was  a  moment  in  my  life,"  she  said, 
"when  I  felt  so  in  the  Presence  as  I  do  now.  I  feel  as  if 
the  Almighty  was  so  real,  and  so  near,  that  I  could  reach 
out  and  touch  Him,  as  I  could  this  wonderful  work  of  His, 
if  I  dared.  I  feel  like  saying  to  Him,  'To  the  extent  of 
my  brain  power  I  realize  Your  presence,  and  all  it  is  in  me 
to  comprehend  of  Your  power.  Help  me  to  learn,  even 
this  late,  the  lessons  of  Your  wonderful  creations.  Help 
me  to  unshackle  and  expand  my  soul  to  the  fullest  realiza- 
tion of  Your  wonders.  Almighty  God,  make  me  bigger, 
make  me  broader!'" 

The  moth  climbed  to  the  end  of  the  projection,  up 
it  a  little  way,  then  suddenly  reversed  its  wings,  turn- 
ing the  hidden  sides  out  and  dropping  them  along  its 
abdomen,  like  a  great  fly.  The  outside  of  the  wings 
thus  exposed  was  far  richer  colour,  more  exquisite  tex- 
ture than  the  under,  and  they  slowly  half  lifted  and 
drooped  again.  Mrs.  Comstock  turned  her  face  to  Am- 
nion. 

"Am  I  an  old  fool,  or  do  you  feel  it,  too?"  she  half 
whispered. 


298  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"You  are  wiser  than  you  ever  have  been  before," 
answered  Ammon.     "I  feel  it,  too." 

"I  also,"  breathed  Elnora. 

The  moth  spread  its  wings,  shivered  them  tremulously, 
opening  and  closing  them  rapidly.  Ammon  handed  the 
box  to  Elnora. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"I  can't  take  that  one,"  she  said.     "Let  her  go." 

"But,  Elnora,"  protested  Mrs.  Comstock,  "I  don't 
want  to  let  her  go.  She's  mine.  She's  the  first  one  I  ever 
found  this  way.  Can't  you  put  her  in  a  big  box,  and  let 
her  live  without  hurting  her?  I  can't  bear  to  let  her  go. 
I  want  to  learn  all  about  her." 

"Then  watch  while  we  get  these  on  the  trees,"  said 
Elnora.  "We  will  take  her  home  until  night  and 
then  decide  what  to  do.  She  won't  fly  for  a  long  time 
yet." 

Mrs.  Comstock  settled  on  the  ground,  an  elbow  on  her 
knee,  her  chin  in  her  palm,  gazing  at  the  moth.  Elnora 
and  Ammon  went  to  the  baited  trees,  placing  several 
large  moths  and  a  number  of  smaller  ones  in  the  cyanide 
jar,  and  searching  the  bushes  beyond,  where  they  found 
several  paired  specimens  of  differing  families.  When 
they  returned  Elnora  showed  her  mother  how  to  hold  her 
hand  before  the  moth  so  that  it  would  climb  upon  her 
fingers.  Then  they  started  back  to  the  cabin,  Elnora  and 
Ammon  leading  the  way.  Mrs.  Comstock  followed  slowly, 
stepping  with  great  care  lest  she  stumble  and  jar  the 
moth.     Her  face  wore  a  look  of  comprehension;  in  her 


FACES  THE  ALMIGHTY  299 

eyes  was  an  exalted  light.  On  she  came  to  the  blue-bor- 
dered pool  lying  beside  her  path. 

A  turtle  scrambled  from  a  log  and  splashed  into  the 
water,  while  a  red-wing  shouted,  "O-ka-lee!"  to  her. 
Mrs.  Comstock  paused  and  looked  intently  at  the  slime- 
covered  quagmire,  framed  in  a  flower  riot  and  homed  over 
by  sweet-voiced  birds.  Then  she  gazed  at  the  thing  of 
incomparable  beauty  clinging  to  her  fingers  and  sal  1 
softly:  "If  you  had  known  about  wonders  like  these  in 
the  days  of  your  youth,  Robert  Comstock,  could  you  ever 
have  done  what  you  did?" 

Elnora  missed  her  mother,  and  turning  to  look  for  her, 
saw  her  standing  beside  the  pool.  Would  the  old  fas- 
cination return?  A  panic  of  fear  seized  the  girl.  She 
went  back  swiftly. 

"Are  you  afraid  she  is  going?"  Elnora  asked.  "If 
you  are,  cup  your  other  hand  over  her  for  shelter.  Carry- 
ing her  through  this  air  and  in  the  hot  sunshine  will  dry 
her  wings  and  make  them  ready  for  flight  very  quickly. 
You  can't  trust  her  in  such  air  and  light  as  you  can  in  the 
cool  dark  woods." 

As  she  talked  she  took  hold  of  her  mother's  sleeve,  anx- 
iously smiling  a  pitiful  little  smile  that  Mrs.  Comstock 
understood.  Ammon  set  his  load  at  the  back  door,  re- 
turning to  hold  open  the  garden  gate  for  Elnora  and  Mrs. 
Comstock.  He  reached  it  just  in  time  to  see  them  stand- 
ing together  beside  the  pool.  The  mother  bent  swiftly 
and  kissed  the  girl  on  the  lips.  Ammon  wheeled  and  was 
busily  hunting  moths  on  the  raspberry  bushes  when  they 


3oo  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

reached  the  gate.  And  so  excellent  are  the  rewards  of 
attending  your  own  business  that  he  found  a  splendid 
Promethea  on  a  lilac  in  a  corner,  a  moth  of  such  rare 
wine-coloured,  velvety  shades  that  it  almost  sent  Mrs. 
Comstock  to  her  knees  again.  But  this  one  was  fully 
developed,  able  to  fly,  and  had  to  be  taken  into  the 
cabin  hurriedly.  Mrs.  Comstock  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  room  holding  up  her  Regalis. 

"Now,  what  must  I  do?"  she  asked. 

Elnora  glanced  at  Philip  Ammon.  Their  eyes  met  and 
both  of  them  smiled;  he  with  amusement  at  the  tall,  spare 
figure,  with  dark  eyes  and  white  crown,  asking  the  child- 
ish question  so  confidingly,  and  Elnora  with  exultant 
pride.  The  girl  was  beginning  to  appreciate  the  great- 
ness of  her  mother. 

"How  would  you  like  to  sit  and  see  her  finish  develop- 
ment?    I'll  get  dinner,"  proposed  the  girl. 

After  they  had  dined,  Ammon  and  Elnora  carried  the 
dishes  to  the  kitchen,  brought  out  boxes,  sheets  of  cork, 
pins,  ink,  paper  for  slips  and  everything  necessary  for 
mounting  and  classifying  the  moths  they  had  taken. 
When  the  housework  was  finished  Mrs.  Comstock  brought 
her  ruffle  and  sat  near,  watching  and  listening.  She 
remembered  all  they  said  that  she  understood,  and  when 
uncertain  she  asked  questions.  Occasionally  she  laid 
down  her  work  to  straighten  some  flower  which  needed 
attention  or  to  go  to  the  garden  for  a  bug  for  the  gros- 
beak. In  one  of  these  absences  Elnora  said  to  Ammon, 
"These  replace  quite  a  number  of  the  moths  I  lost  for 


FACES  THE  ALMIGHTY  301 

the  man  of  India.  With  a  week  of  such  luck,  I  could  al- 
most begin  to  talk  college  again." 

"There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  not  have  the  week 
and  the  luck,"  said  Ammon.  "I  have  taken  moths  until 
the  middle  of  August,  though  I  suspect  one  is  more  apt 
to  find  late  ones  in  the  north,  where  it  is  colder  than  here. 
The  next  week  is  hay-time,  but  we  can  count  on  a  few 
double-brooders  and  strays,  and  by  working  the  ex- 
change method  for  all  it  is  worth,  I  think  we  can  complete 
the  collection  again." 

"You  almost  make  me  hope,"  said  Elnora,  "but 
I  must  not  allow  myself.  I  don't  truly  think  I  can 
replace  all  I  lost,  not  even  with  your  help.  If  I  could, 
I  can't  see  my  way  clear  to  leave  mother  this  winter.  I 
have  found  her  so  recently,  and  she  is  so  precious,  I 
can't  risk  losing  her  again.  I  am  going  to  take  the 
nature  position  in  the  Onabasha  schools,  and  I  shall  be 
most  happy  doing  the  work.  Only,  these  are  a  tempta- 
tion." 

"  I  wish  you  might  go  to  college  this  fall  with  the  other 
girls,"  said  Ammon.  "I  feel  that  if  you  don't  you  never 
will.     Isn't  there  some  way?" 

"I  can't  see  it  if  there  is,  and  I  really  don't  want  to 
leave  mother." 

"Well,  mother  is  mighty  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Comstock,  entering  the  arbour. 

Ammon  noticed  that  her  face  was  pale,  her  lips  quiver- 
ing, her  voice  cold. 

"I  was  just  saying  to  your  daughter  that  she  should 


302  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

go  to  college  this  winter,"  he  explained,  "but  she  says 
she  don't  want  to  leave  you." 

"If  she  wants  to  go,  I  wish  she  could,"  said  Mrs.  Corn- 
stock,  a  look  of  relief  spreading  over  her  face. 

"Oh,  all  girls  want  to  go  to  college,"  said  Amnion. 
"It's  the  only  proper  place  to  learn  bridge  and  embroid- 
ery; not  to  mention  midnight  lunches  of  mixed  pickles 
and  fruit  cake,  and  all  the  delights  of  the  sororities." 

"I  have  thought  a  great  deal  about  going  to  col- 
lege," said  Elnora,  "but  I  never  thought  of  any  of  those 
things." 

"That  is  because  your  education  in  fudge  and  bridge 
has  been  sadly  neglected,"  said  Ammon.  "You  should 
hear  my  sister  Polly!  This  was  her  last  year!  Lunches 
and  sororities  were  all  I  heard  her  mention,  until  Tom 
Levering  came  on  deck;  now  he  is  the  leading  subject.  I 
can't  see  from  her  daily  conversation  that  she  knows  half 
as  much  really  worth  knowing  as  you  do,  but  she  can  beat 
you  miles  on  fun." 

"Oh,  we  had  some  good  times  in  the  high  school,"  said 
Elnora.  "Life  hasn't  been  all  work  and  study.  Is  Edith 
Carr  a  college  girl?" 

"No.  She  is  the  very  selectest  kind  of  a  private  board- 
ing school  girl." 

"Who  is  she?"  asked  Mrs.  Comstock. 

Ammon  opened  his  lips. 

"She  is  a  girl  in  Chicago  that  Mr.  Ammon  knows  very 
well,"  said  Elnora.  "She  is  beautiful  and  rich,  and  a 
friend  of  his  sister's.     Or,  didn't  you  say  that?" 


FACES  THE  ALMIGHTY  303 

"I  don't  remember,  but  she  is,"  said  Ammon.  "This 
moth  needs  an  alcohol  bath  to  take  off  the  dope." 

"Won't  the  down  come,  too?"  asked  Elnora  anxiously. 

"No.  You  watch  and  you  will  see  it  come  out,  as 
Polly  would  say,  'a  perfectly  good'  moth." 

"Is  your  sister  younger  than  you?"  inquired  Elnora. 

"Yes,"  said  Ammon,  "but  she  is  three  years  older  than 
you.  She  is  the  dearest  sister  in  all  the  world.  I'd  love 
to  see  her  now." 

"Why  don't  you  send  for  her,"  suggested  Elnora. 
"Perhaps  she'd  like  to  help  us  catch  moths." 

"Yes,  I  think  Polly  in  a  Virot  hat,  Picot  embroidered 
frock  and  three-inch  heels  would  take  more  moths  than 
any  one  that  ever  struck  the  Limberlost,"  laughed  Am- 
mon. 

"Well,  you  get  lots  of  them,  and  you  are  her  brother." 

"Yes,  but  that  is  different.  Father  was  raised  in  Ona- 
basha,  and  he  loved  the  country.  He  trained  me  his 
way  and  mother  took  charge  of  Polly.  I  don't  just  under- 
stand it.  Mother  is  a  great  home  body  herself,  but  she 
did  succeed  in  making  Polly  strictly  ornamental." 

"Does  Tom  Levering  need  a  'strictly  ornamental' 
girl?" 

"You  are  too  matter  of  fact!  Too  'strictly'  material! 
He  needs  a  darling  girl  who  will  love  him  plenty,  and 
Polly  is  that." 

"Well,  then,  does  the  Limberlost  need  a  'strictly  or- 
namental' girl?" 

"No!"   cried   Ammon.     "You   are  ornament   enough 


304  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

for  the  Limberlost.  I  have  changed  my  mind.  I  don't 
want  Polly  here.  She  would  not  enjoy  catching  moths,  or 
anything  we  do." 

"She  might,"  persisted  Elnora.  "You  are  her  brother, 
and  surely  you  care  for  these  things." 

"The  argument  does  not  hold,"  said  Ammon.  "Polly 
and  I  do  not  like  the  same  things  when  we  are  at  home, 
but  we  are  very  fond  of  each  other.  The  member  of  my 
family  who  would  go  crazy  about  this  is  my  father.  I 
wish  he  could  come,  if  only  for  a  week.  I'd  send  for  him, 
but  he  is  tied  up  in  preparing  some  papers  for  a  great 
corporation  case  this  summer.  Pie  likes  the  country. 
It  was  his  vote  that  brought  me  here." 

Ammon  leaned  back  in  the  arbour,  watching  the 
grosbeak  as  it  hunted  food  between  a  tomato  vime 
and  a  day  lily.  Elnora  set  him  to  making  labels, 
and  when  he  finished  them  he  asked  permission  to  write 
a  letter.  He  took  no  pains  to  conceal  his  page,  and 
from  where  she  sat  opposite  him,  Elnora  could  not  look 
his  way  without  reading,  "My  dearest  Edith."  He 
wrote  busily  for  a  time  and  then  sat  staring  out  across 
the  garden. 

"Have  you  run  out  of  material  so  quickly?"  asked 
Elnora. 

"That's  about  it,"  said  Ammon.  "I  have  said  that  I 
am  getting  well  as  rapidly  as  possible,  that  the  air  is  fine, 
the  folks  at  Uncle  Doc's  all  well,  and  entirely  too  good  to 
me;  that  I  am  spending  most  of  my  time  in  the  country 
helping  catch  moths  for  a  collection,  which  is  splendid 


If   you   had   known  about  wonders   like   these  in  the 
days  of  your  youth,  Robert  Comstock,  could  you 
ever  have  done  the  thing  you  did ?  '" 


FACES  THE  ALMIGHTY  305 

exercise;  now  I  can't  think  of  another  thing  that  will  be 
interesting." 

There  was  a  burst  of  exquisite  notes  in  the  maple. 

"Put  in  the  grosbeak,"  suggested  Elnora.  "Tell 
her  you  are  so  freindly  with  him  you  feed  him  potato 
bugs." 

Ammon  dropped  the  pen  to  the  sheet,  bent  forward, 
then  hesitated. 

"Blest  if  I  do!"  he  cried.  "She'd  think  a  grosbeak  was 
a  depraved  person  with  a  large  nose.  She'd  never  dream 
that  it  was  a  black-robed  lover,  with  a  breast  of  snow  and 
a  crimson  heart.  She  don't  care  for  hungry  babies  and 
potato  bugs.  I  shall  write  that  to  father.  He  will  find 
it  exquisite." 

Elnora  deftly  picked  up  a  moth,  pinned  it  and  placed 
its  wings.  She  straightened  the  antennae,  drew  each  leg 
into  position  and  set  it  in  perfectly  lifelike  manner.  As 
she  lifted  her  work  to  see  if  she  had  it  right,  she  glanced  at 
Ammon.  He  was  still  frowning  and  hesitating  over  the 
paper. 

"I  dare  you  to  let  me  dictate  a  couple  of  paragraphs," 
she  said. 

"Done!"  cried  Ammon.  "Go  slowly  enough  that  I 
can  write  it."- 

Elnora  laughed  softly. 

"I  am  writing  this,"  she  began,  "in  an  old  grape  arbour 
in  the  country,  near  a  log  cabin  where  I  had  my  dinner. 
From  where  I  sit  I  can  see  directly  into  the  home  of  the 
next-door  neighbour  on  the  west.     His  name  is  R.  B. 


306  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Grosbeak.  From  all  I  have  seen  of  him,  he  is  a  gentleman 
of  the  old  school;  the  oldest  school  there  is,  no  doubt.  He 
always  wears  a  black  suit  and  cap  and  a  white  vest, 
decorated  with  one  large  red  heart,  which  I  think  must  be 
the  emblem  of  some  ancient  order.  I  have  been  here  a 
number  of  times,  and  I  never  have  seen  him  wear  any- 
thing else,  or  his  wife  appear  in  other  than  a  brown  dress 
with  touches  of  white. 

"It  has  appeared  to  me  at  times  that  she  was  a  shade 
neglectful  of  her  home  duties,  but  he  does  not  seem  to  see 
it  that  way.  He  cheerfully  stays  about  the  sitting  room, 
while  she  is  away  having  a  good  time,  and  sings  as  he 
cares  for  the  four  small  children.  I  must  tell  you  about 
his  music.  I  am  sure  he  never  saw  inside  a  conservatory. 
I  think  he  merely  picked  up  what  he  knows  by  ear  and 
without  vocal  training,  but  there  is  a  tenderness  in  his 
tones,  a  depth  of  pure  melody,  that  I  never  have  heard 
surpassed.  It  may  be  that  I  think  more  of  his  music 
than  that  of  some  other  good  vocalists  hereabout,  be- 
cause I  see  more  of  him  and  appreciate  his  devotion  to  his 
home  life. 

"I  just  had  an  encounter  with  him  at  the  west  fence, 
and  induced  him  to  carry  a  small  gift  to  his  children. 
When  I  see  the  perfect  harmony  in  which  he  lives,  and 
the  depth  of  content  he  and  the  brown  lady  find  in  life, 
I  am  almost  persuaded  to  —  now  this  is  going  to  be 
poetry,"  said  Elnora.  "Move  your  pen  over  here  and 
begin  with  a  quote  and  a  cap." 

Ammon's  face  had  been  an  interesting  study  as  he 


FACES  THE  ALMIGHTY  307 

took  down  her  sentences.     Now  he  gravely  set  the  pen 
where  she  indicated,  and  Elnora  dictated  — 

"  Buy  a  nice  little  home  in  the   country, 
And  settle  down  there  for  life. " 

"That's  the  truth!"  cried  Ammon.  "It's  as  big  a 
temptation  as  I  ever  had.     Go  on!" 

"That's  all,"  said  Elnora.  "You  can  finish.  The 
moths  are  done.  I  am  going  hunting  for  whatever  I  can 
find  for  the  grades." 

"Wait  a  minute,"  begged  Ammon.     "I  am  going,  too." 

"No.     You  stay  with  mother  and  finish  your  letter." 

"It  is  done.     I  couldn't  add  anything  to  that." 

"All  right!  Sign  your  name  and  come  on.  But  I  for- 
got to  tell  you  all  the  bargain.  Maybe  you  won't  send 
the  letter  when  you  hear  that.  The  rest  is  that  you  show 
me  the  reply  to  my  part  of  it." 

"Oh,  that's  easy!  I  wouldn't  have  the  slightest  ob- 
jection to  showing  you  the  whole  letter." 

He  signed  his  name,  folded  the  sheets  and  slipped  them 
into  his  pocket. 

"Where  are  we  going  and  what  do  we  take?" 

"Will  you  go,  mother?"  asked  Elnora. 

"I  have  a  little  work  that  should  be  done,"  said  Mrs. 
Comstock.  "Could  you  spare  me?  Where  do  you  want 
to  go?" 

"We  will  go  down  to  Aunt  Margaret's  and  see  her  a  few 
minutes  and  get  Billy.  We  will  be  back  in  time  for 
supper." 


308  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Mrs.  Comstock  smiled  as  she  watched  them  down  the 
road.  What  a  splendid  looking  pair  of  young  creatures 
they  were!  How  finely  proportioned,  how  full  of  vitality! 
Then  her  face  grew  troubled  as  she  saw  them  in  earnest 
conversation.  Just  as  she  was  wishing  she  had  not 
trusted  her  precious  girl  with  so  much  of  a  stranger,  she 
saw  Elnora  stoop  to  lift  a  branch  and  peer  under.  The 
mother  grew  content.  Elnora  was  thinking  only  of  her 
work.     She  was  to  be  trusted  utterly. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Wherein   the    Limberlost    Sings   for   Ammon,   and 
the  Talking  Trees  Tell  Great  Secrets 

A  few  days  later  Ammon  handed  Elnora  a  sheet 
of  paper  and  she  read:  "In  your  condition  I  should 
think  the  moth  hunting  and  life  at  that  cabin  would 
be  very  good  for  you,  but  for  any  sake  keep  away  from 
that  Grosbeak  person,  and  don't  come  home  with  your 
head  full  of  granger  ideas.  No  doubt  he  has  a  remark- 
able voice,  but  I  can't  bear  untrained  singers,  and  don't 
you  get  the  idea  that  a  June  song  is  perennial.  You 
are  not  hearing  the  music  he  will  make  when  the  four 
babies  get  the  scarlet  fever  and  the  measles,  and  the  gad- 
ding wife  leaves  him  at  home  to  care  for  them  then.  Poor 
soul,  I  pity  her!  How  she  exists  where  rampant  cows 
bellow  at  you,  frogs  croak,  mosquitoes  consume  you,  the 
butter  goes  to  oil  in  summer  and  bricks  in  winter,  while 
the  pump  freezes  every  day,  and  there  is  no  earthly 
amusement,  and  no  society!  Poor  things!  Can't  you 
influence  him  to  move?  No  wonder  she  gads  when  she 
has  a  chance!  I  should  die.  If  you  are  thinking  of 
settling  in  the  country,  think  also  of  a  woman  who  is 
satisfied    with    white    and    brown   to    accompany  you! 

309 


310  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Brown!  Of  all  deadly  colours!  I  should  go  mad  in 
brown." 

Elnora  laughed  as  she  read.  Her  face  was  dimpling 
as  she  handed  back  the  sheet.  "Who's  ahead?"  she 
asked. 

"Who  do  you  think?"  he  parried. 

"She  is,"  said  Elnora.  "Are  you  going  to  tell  her 
in  your  next  that  R.  B.  Grosbeak  is  a  bird,  and  that  he 
probably  will  spend  the  winter  in  a  wild  plum  thicket 
in  Tennessee?"' 

"No,"  said  Ammon.  "I  shall  tell  her  that  I  under- 
stand her  ideas  of  life  perfectly,  and,  of  course,  I  never 
shall  ask  her  to  deal  with  oily  butter  and  frozen  pumps  — " 

" —  and  measly  babies,"  interpolated  Elnora. 

"Exactly!"  said  Ammon.  "Just  the  same  I  find  so 
much  to  counterbalance  those  things,  that  I  should  not  ob- 
ject to  bearing  them  myself,  in  view  of  the  recompense. 
Where  do  we  go  and  what  do  we  do  to-day?" 

"We  will  have  to  wander  along  the  roads  and  around 
the  edge  of  the  Limberlost  to-day,"  said  Elnora.  "Mother 
is  making  strawberry  preserves,  and  she  can't  come  until 
she  finishes.  Suppose  we  go  down  to  the  swamp  and  I'll 
show  you  what  is  left  of  the  flower-room  that  Terrence 
O'More,  the  big  lumber  man  of  Great  Rapids,  made 
when  he  was  a  homeless  boy  here.  Of  course,  you  have 
heard  the  story?" 

"Yes  and  I've  met  the  O'Mores,  who  are  frequently  in 
Chicago  society.  They  have  friends  there.  I  think  them 
one  ideal  couple." 


THE  LIMBERLOST  SINGS  311 

"That  sounds  like  they  might  be  the  only  one,  or  close 
to  it,"  said  Elnora,  "and,  indeed,  they  are  not.  I  know 
dozens.  Aunt  Margaret  and  Uncle  Wesley  are  another, 
the  Brownlees  another,  and  my  mathematics  professor 
and  his  wife.  The  world  is  full  of  happy  people,  but  no 
one  ever  hears  of  them.  You  have  to  fight  and  make  a 
scandal  to  get  into  the  papers.  No  one  knows  about  all 
the  happy  people.  I  am  happy  myself,  and  just  look  how 
perfectly  inconspicuous  I  am." 

"You  only  need  go  where  you  will  be  seen,"  began  Am- 
nion, when  he  remembered  and  finished.  "What  do  we 
take  to-day?" 

"Ourselves,"  said  Elnora.  "I  have  a  vagabond  streak 
in  my  blood  and  it's  in  evidence.  I  am  going  to  show  you 
where  real  flowers  grow,  real  birds  sing,  and  if  I  feel  quite 
right  about  it,  perhaps  I  shall  raise  a  note  or  two  myself." 

"Oh,  do  you  sing?"  asked  Ammon  politely. 

"At  times,"  answered  Elnora.  "'As  do  the  birds,  be- 
cause I  must,'  but  don't  be  scared.  The  mood  does  not 
possess  me  often.  Perhaps  I  shan't  raise  a  note  when  we 
get  there." 

They  went  down  the  road  to  the  swamp,  climbed  the 
snake  fence,  followed  the  path  to  the  old  trail  and  then 
turned  south  along  it.  Elnora  indicated  to  Ammon  the 
trail  with  remnants  of  sagging  barbed  wire. 

"It  was  ten  years  ago,"  she  said.  "I  was  just  a  little 
schoolgirl,  but  I  wandered  widely  even  then,  and  no  one 
cared.  I  saw  him  often.  He  had  been  in  a  city  in- 
stitution all  his  life,  when  he  took  the  job  of  keeping  tim- 


312  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

ber  thieves  out  of  this  swamp,  before  many  trees  had  been 
cut.  It  was  strong  man's  work,  and  he  was  a  frail  boy, 
but  he  grew  hardier  as  he  lived  out  of  doors.  This  trail 
we  are  on  is  the  path  his  feet  first  wore  in  those  days  when 
he  was  insane  with  fear  and  eaten  up  with  loneliness,  but 
he  stuck  to  his  work  and  won  out.  I  used  to  come  down 
to  the  road  and  creep  in  among  the  bushes  as  far  as  I 
dared,  to  watch  him  pass.  He  walked  mostly,  some- 
times he  rode  a  wheel. 

"  Some  days  his  face  was  dreadfully  sad,  some  days  it 
was  so  determined  a  little  child  could  see  the  force  in  it, 
and  once  it  was  radiant.  That  day  the  Swamp  Angel 
was  with  him.  I  can't  tell  you  what  she  was  like.  1 
never  saw  any  one  who  resembled  her.  He  stopped  near 
here  to  show  her  a  bird's  nest.  Then  they  went  on  to  a 
sort  of  flower-room  he  had  made,  and  he  sang  for  her. 
By  the  time  he  left,  I  had  gotten  bold  enough  to  come  out 
on  the  trail,  and  I  met  the  big  Scotchman  Freckles  lived 
with.  He  saw  me  catching  moths  and  butterflies,  so  he 
took  me  to  the  flower-room  and  gave  me  everything  there. 
I  don't  dare  come  alone  often,  and  so  I  can't  keep  it  up 
as  he  did,  but  you  can  see  something  of  how  it  was." 

Elnora  led  the  way  and  Ammon  followed.  The  out- 
lines of  the  room  were  not  distinct,  because  many  of  the 
trees  were  gone,  but  Elnora  showed  how  it  had  been  as 
nearly  as  she  could. 

"The  swamp  is  almost  ruined  now,"  she  said.  "The 
maples,  walnuts,  and  cherries  are  all  gone.  The  talking 
trees  are  the  only  things  left  worth  while." 


THE  LIMBERLOST  SINGS  313 

"The  'talking  trees'!  I  don't  understand,"  com- 
mented Ammon. 

"No  wonder!"  laughed  Elnora.  "They  are  my  dis- 
covery. You  know  all  trees  whisper  and  talk  during  the 
summer,  but  there  are  two  that  have  so  much  to  say  they 
keep  on  the  whole  winter,  when  the  others  are  silent.  The 
beeches  and  oaks  so  love  to  talk,  they  cling  to  their  dead, 
dry  leaves.  In  the  winter  the  winds  are  stiffest  and  blow 
most,  so  these  trees  whisper,  chatter,  sob,  laugh,  and  at 
times  roar  until  the  sound  is  deafening.  They  never 
cease  until  new  leaves  come  out  in  the  spring  to  push  off  the 
old  ones.  I  love  to  stand  beneath  them  with  my  ear  to 
the  great  trunks,  interpreting  what  they  say  to  fit  my 
moods.  The  beeches  branch  low,  and  their  leaves  are 
small,  so  they  only  know  common  earthly  things;  but  the 
oaks  run  straight  above  almost  all  other  trees  before  they 
branch,  their  arms  are  mighty,  their  leaves  large.  They 
meet  the  winds  that  travel  around  the  globe,  and  from 
them  learn  the  big  things." 

Ammon  studied  the  girl  face.  "What  do  the  beeches 
tell  you,  Elnora?"  he  asked  gently. 

"To  be  patient,  to  be  unselfish,  to  do  unto  others  as 
I  would  have  them  do  to  me." 

"And  the  oaks?" 

"They  say  'be  true,'  'live  a  clean  life,'  'send  your  soul 
up  here  and  let  the  winds  of  the  world  teach  it  what  hon- 
our achieves.'" 

"Wonderful  secrets,  those!"  marvelled  Ammon.  "Are 
they  telling  them  now?     Could  I  hear?" 


314  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"No.  They  are  only  gossiping  now.  This  is  play- 
time. They  tell  the  big  secrets  to  a  white  world,  when  the 
music  inspires  them." 

"The  music?" 

"All  other  trees  are  harps  in  the  winter.  Their  trunks 
are  the  frames,  their  branches  the  strings,  the  winds  the 
musicians.  When  the  air  is  cold  and  clear,  the  world  very 
white,  and  the  harp  music  swelling,  then  the  talking  trees 
tell  the  strengthening,  uplifting  things." 

"You  wonderful  girl ! "  cried  Ammon.  " What  a  woman 
you  will  be!" 

"If  I  am  a  woman  at  all  worth  while,  it  will  be  because 
I  have  had  such  wonderful  opportunities,"  said  Elnora. 
"Not  every  girl  is  driven  to  the  forest  to  learn  what  God 
has  to  say  there.  Here  are  the  remains  of  Freckles's 
room.  The  time  the  Angel  came  here  he  sang  to  her,  and 
I  listened.  I  never  heard  music  like  that.  No  wonder 
she  loved  him.  Every  one  who  knew  him  did,  and  they  do 
yet.  Try  that  log,  it  makes  a  fairly  good  seat.  This  old 
store  box  was  his  treasure  house,  just  as  it's  now  mine. 
I  will  show  you  my  dearest  possession.  I  do  not  dare 
take  it  home  because  mother  can't  overcome  her  dislike 
for  it.  It  was  my  father's,  and  in  some  ways  I  am  like 
him.     This  is  the  strongest." 

Elnora  lifted  the  violin  and  began  to  play.  She  wore 
a  school  dress  of  green  gingham,  with  the  sleeves  rolled 
to  the  elbows.  She  seemed  a  part  of  the  setting  all 
around  her.  Her  head  shone  like  a  small  dark  sun,  and 
her  face  never  had  seemed  so  rose-flushed  and  fair.     From 


THE  LIMBERLOST  SINGS  315 

the  instant  she  drew  the  bow,  her  lips  parted  and  her  eyes 
fastened  on  something  far  away  in  the  swamp,  and  never 
did  she  give  more  of  that  impression  of  feeling  for  her  notes 
and  repeating  something  audible  only  to  her.  Ammon 
was  too  near  to  get  the  best  effect.  He  arose  and  stepped 
back  several  yards,  leaning  against  a  large  tree,  looking 
and  listening  with  all  his  soul. 

As  he  changed  position  he  saw  that  Mrs.  Comstock 
had  followed  them,  and  was  standing  on  the  trail,  where 
she  could  not  have  helped  hearing  everything  Elnora  had 
said.  So  to  Ammon  before  her  and  the  mother  watching 
on  the  trail,  Elnora  played  the  Song  of  the  Limberlost.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  swamp  hushed  all  its  other  voices  and 
spoke  only  through  her  dancing  bow.  The  mother  out 
on  the  trail  had  heard  it  all  once  before  from  the  girl, 
many  times  from  her  father.  To  the  man  it  was  a  reve- 
lation. He  stood  so  stunned  he  forgot  Mrs.  Comstock. 
He  tried  to  realize  what  a  great  city  audience  would  say 
to  that  music,  from  such  a  player,  with  a  like  background, 
and  he  could  not  imagine. 

He  was  wondering  what  he  dared  say,  how  much  he 
might  express,  when  the  last  note  fell  and  the  girl  laid  the 
violin  in  the  case,  closed  the  door,  locked  it  and  hid  the 
key  in  the  rotting  wood  at  the  end  of  a  log.  Then  she 
came  to  him.     Ammon  stood  looking  at  her  curiously. 

"I  wonder,"  he  said,  "what  people  would  say  to  that?" 

"I  did  it  in  public  once,"  said  Elnora.  "I  think  they 
liked  it  fairly  well.  I  had  a  note  yesterday  offering  me 
the  leadership  of  the  high  school  orchestra  in  Onabasha. 


316  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

I  can  take  it  as  well  as  not.  None  of  my  talks  to  the 
grades  come  the  first  thing  in  the  morning.  I  can  play 
a  few  minutes  in  the  orchestra  and  reach  the  rooms  in 
plenty  of  time.  It  will  be  more  work  that  I  love,  and  like 
finding  the  money.  I  would  gladly  play  for  nothing, 
just  to  be  able  to  express  myself." 

"With  some  people  it  makes  a  regular  battlefield  of  the 
human  heart  —  this  struggle  for  self-expression,"  said 
Ammon.  "You  are  going  to  do  beautiful  work  in  the 
world,  and  do  it  well.  When  I  realize  that  your  violin 
belonged  to  your  father,  that  he  played  it  before  you  were 
born,  and  it  no  doubt  affected  your  mother  strongly,  and 
then  couple  with  that  the  years  you  have  roamed  these 
fields  and  swamps  finding  in  nature  all  you  had  to  lavish 
your  great  heart  upon,  I  can  see  how  you  evolved.  I 
understand  what  you  mean  by  self-expression.  I  know 
something  of  what  you  have  to  express.  The  world 
never  so  wanted  your  message  as  it  does  now.  It  is 
hungry  for  the  things  you  know.  I  can  see  easily  how 
your  position  came  to  you.  What  you  have  to  give  is 
taught  in  no  college,  and  I  am  not  sure  but  you  would 
spoil  yourself  if  you  tried  to  run  your  mind  through  a  set 
groove  with  hundreds  of  others.  I  never  thought  I  should 
say  such  a  thing  to  any  one,  but  I  do  say  to  you,  and  I 
honestly  believe  it;  give  up  the  college  idea.  Your  mind 
does  not  need  that  sort  of  development,  it  is  far  past  it. 
Stick  close  to  your  work  in  the  woods.  You  are  getting 
so  infinitely  greater  on  it  than  the  best  college  student  I 
ever  knew,  that  there  is  no  comparison.     When  you  have 


THE  LIMBERLOST  SINGS  317 

money  to  spend,  take  that  violin  and  go  to  one  of  the 
world's  great  masters  and  let  the  Limberlost  sing  to  him; 
if  he  thinks  he  can  improve  it,  very  well.  I  have  my 
doubts." 

"Do  you  really  mean  that  you  would  give  up  all  idea 
of  going  to  college,  if  you  were  me?" 

"I  really  mean  it,"  said  Ammon.  "If  I  now  held  the 
money  to  send  you  in  my  hands,  and  could  give  it  to  you 
in  some  way  you  would  accept,  I  would  tear  it  up  and 
throw  it  away  first.  I  do  not  know  why  it  is  the  lot  of 
the  world  always  to  want  something  different  from  what 
life  gives  them.  If  you  only  could  realize  it,  my  girl,  you 
are  in  college,  and  have  been  always.  You  are  in  the 
school  of  experience,  and  it  has  taught  you  to  think,  and 
given  you  a  heart.  God  knows  I  envy  the  man  who  wins 
it!  You  have  been  in  the  college  of  the  Limberlost  all 
your  life,  and  I  never  met  a  graduate  from  any  other  in- 
stitution who  could  begin  to  compare  with  you  in  san- 
ity, clarity,  and  interesting  knowledge.  I  wouldn't  even 
advise  you  to  read  too  many  books  on  your  lines.  You 
get  your  stuff  first  hand,  and  you  know  that  you  are  right. 
What  you  should  do  is  to  begin  early  to  practise  self- 
expression.  Don't  wait  too  long  to  tell  us  about  the  woods 
as  you  know  them." 

"Follow  the  course  of  the  Bird  Woman,  you  mean?" 
asked  Elnora. 

"In  your  own  way;  with  your  own  light.  She  won't 
live  forever.  You  are  younger,  and  you  will  be  ready 
to  begin  where  she  ends.     The  swamp  has  given  you  all 


318  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

you  need  so  far,  now  you  give  it  to  the  world  in  payment. 
College  be  confounded  I  Go  to  work  and  show  people 
what  there  is  in  you!" 

Not  until  then  did  he  remember  that  Mrs.  Comstock 
was  somewhere  very  near. 

"Should  we  go  out  to  the  trail  and  see  if  your  mother 
is  coming?"  he  asked. 

"Here  she  is  now,"  said  Elnora.  "Gracious,  it's  a 
mercy  I  got  that  violin  put  away  in  time!  I  didn't  ex- 
pect her  so  soon,"  whispered  the  girl  as  she  turned  and 
went  toward  her  mother.  Mrs.  Comstock's  face  was  a 
study  as  she  looked  at  Elnora. 

"  I  forgot  that  you  were  making  sun-preserves  and  they 
didn't  require  much  cooking,"  she  said.  "We  should  have 
waited  for  you." 

"Not  at  all!"  answered  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Have  you 
found  anything  yet?" 

"Nothing  that  I  can  show  you,"  said  Elnora.  "I  am 
not  sure  but  I  have  found  an  idea  that  will  revolutionize 
the  whole  course  of  my  work,  thought,  and  ambitions." 

"'Ambitions!'  My,  what  a  hefty  word!"  laughed 
Mrs.  Comstock.  "Now,  who  would  suspect  a  little  red- 
haired  country  girl  of  harbouring  such  a  deadly  germ  in 
her  body?     Can  you  tell  mother  about  it?" 

"Not  if  you  talk  to  me  that  way,  I  can't,"  said  Elnora. 

"Well,  I  guess  we  better  let  ambition  lie.  I've  al- 
ways heard  it  was  safest  asleep.  If  you  ever  get  a  bona 
fide  attack,  it  will  be  time  to  attend  it.  Let's  hunt  speci- 
mens.    It  is  June.     Philip  and  I  are  in  the  grades.     You 


THE  LIMBERLOST  SINGS  319 

have  an  hour  to  put  an  idea  into  our  heads  that  will  stick 
for  a  lifetime,  and  grow  for  good.  That's  the  way  I  look 
at  your  job.  Now,  what  are  you  going  to  give  us?  We 
don't  want  any  old  silly  stuff  that  has  been  hashed  over 
and  over,  we  want  a  big  new  idea  to  plant  in  our  hearts. 
Come  on,  Miss  Teacher,  what  is  the  boiled-down,  double- 
distilled  essence  of  June?  Give  it  to  us  strong.  We  are 
large  enough  to  furnish  it  developing  ground.  Hurry 
up!  Time  is  short  and  we  are  waiting.  What  is  the 
miracle  of  June?  What  one  thing  epitomizes  the  whole 
month,  and  makes  it  just  a  little  different  from  any 
other?" 

"The  birth  of  these  big  night  moths,"  said  Elnora 
promptly. 

Ammon  clapped  his  hands.  The  tears  started  to  Mrs. 
Comstock's  eyes.  She  took  Elnora  in  her  arms,  and  kissed 
her  forehead. 

"You'll  do!"  she  said.  "June  is  June,  not  because  it 
has  bloom,  bird,  fruit,  or  flower  exclusive  to  it  alone.  It's 
half  May  and  half  July  in  all  of  them.  But  as  I  figure  it, 
it's  just  June,  when  it  comes  to  these  great,  velvet-winged 
night  moths  which  sweep  its  moonlit  skies,  consummat- 
ing their  scheme  of  creation,  and  dropping  like  a  bloomed- 
out  flower.  Give  them  moths  for  June.  Then  make 
that  the  basis  of  your  year's  work.  Find  the  distinctive 
feature  of  each  month,  the  one  thing  which  marks  it  a 
time  apart,  and  hit  them  squarely  between  the  eyes  with 
it.  Even  the  babies  of  the  lowest  grades  can  comprehend 
moths  when  they  see  a  few  emerge,  and  learn  their  his- 


320  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

tory,  as  it  can  be  lived  before  them.  You  should  show 
your  specimens  in  pairs,  then  their  eggs,  the  growing 
caterpillars,  and  then  the  cocoons.  You  want  to  dig  out 
the  red  heart  of  every  month  in  the  year,  and  hold  it 
pulsing  before  them. 

"I  can't  name  all  of  them  off-hand,  but  I  think  of  one 
more  right  now.  February  belongs  to  our  winter  birds. 
It  is  then  the  great  horned  owl  of  the  swamp  courts  his 
mate,  the  big  hawks  pair,  and  even  the  crows  begin  to 
take  notice.  These  are  truly  our  birds.  Like  the  poor 
we  have  them  always  with  us.  You  should  hear  the 
musicians  of  this  swamp  in  February,  Philip,  on  a  mellow 
night.  Oh,  but  they  are  in  earnest!  For  twenty-One  years 
I've  listened  by  night  to  the  great  owls,  all  the  smaller 
sizes,  the  foxes,  coons,  and  every  resident  left  in  these 
woods,  and  by  day  to  the  hawks,  yellow-hammers,  sap- 
suckers,  titmice,  crows,  and  all  our  winter  birds.  Only 
just  now  it's  come  to  me  that  the  distinctive  feature  of 
February  is  not  linen  bleaching,  nor  sugar  making;  it's 
the  love  month  of  our  very  own  birds.  Give  them  hawks 
and  owls  for  February,  Elnora." 

The  girl  looked  at  Ammon  with  flashing  eyes.  "How's 
that?"  she  said.  "Don't  you  think  I  will  make  it,  with 
such  help?  You  should  hear  the  concert  she  is  talking 
about  1  It  is  simply  indescribable  when  the  ground  is 
covered  with  snow,  and  the  moonlight  white." 

"  It's  about  the  best  music  we  have,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"I  just  wonder  if  you  couldn't  copy  that  alone  and  make 
a  strong,  original  piece  out  of  it  for  your  violin,  Elnora?" 


THE  LIMBERLOST  SINGS  321 

There  was  one  tense  breath,  then  —  "I  could  try,"  said 
Elnora  simply. 

Ammon  rushed  to  the  rescue.  "We  must  go  to  work," 
he  said,  and  began  examining  a  walnut  branch  for  Luna 
moth  eggs.  Elnora  joined  him  while  Mrs.  Comstock  drew 
her  embroidery  from  her  pocket  and  sat  on  a  log.  She 
said  she  was  tired,  they  could  come  for  her  when  they 
were  ready  to  go.  She  could  hear  their  voices  all  around 
her  until  she  called  them  at  supper  time.  When  they 
came  to  her  she  stood  waiting  on  the  trail,  the  sewing  in 
one  hand,  the  violin  in  the  other.  Elnora  became  very 
white,  but  took  the  trail  without  a  word.  Ammon,  un- 
able to  see  a  woman  carry  a  heavier  load  than  he,  reached 
for  the  instrument.  Mrs.  Comstock  shook  her  head. 
She  carried  the  violin  home,  took  it  into  her  room  and 
closed  the  door.     Elnora  turned  to  Ammon. 

"If  she  destroys  that,  I  will  die!"  cried  the  girl. 

"She  won't!"  said  Ammon.  "You  misunderstand  her. 
She  wouldn't  have  said  what  she  did  about  the  owls, 
if  she  had  meant  to.  She  is  your  mother.  No  one  loves 
you  as  she  does.  Trust  her!  Myself  —  I  think  she's 
simply  great!" 

Mrs.  Comstock  returned  with  serene  face,  and  all  of 
them  helped  with  the  supper.  When  it  was  over  Ammon 
and  Elnora  sorted  and  classified  the  afternoon's  speci- 
mens, and  made  a  trip  to  the  woods  to  paint  and  light 
several  trees  for  moths.  When  they  came  back  Mrs. 
Comstock  sat  in  the  arbour,  and  they  joined  her.  The 
moonlight  was  so  intense,  print  could  have  been  read  by 


322  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

it.  The  damp  night  air  held  odours  near  to  earth,  mak- 
ing flower  and  tree  perfume  strong.  A  thousand  insects 
were  serenading,  and  in  the  maple  the  grosbeak  occa- 
sionally said  a  reassuring  word  to  his  wife,  while  she  an- 
swered that  all  was  well.  A  whip-poor-will  wailed  in  the 
swamp  and  back  by  the  blue-bordered  pool  a  chat  com- 
plained disconsolately.  Mrs.  Comstock  went  into  the 
cabin,  but  she  returned  almost  instantly,  laying  the  violin 
and  bow  across  Elnora's  lap.  "I  wish  you  would  give 
us  a  little  music,"  she  said. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Wherein  Mrs.  Comstock  Dances  in  The  Moonlight, 
and  Elnora  Makes  a  Confession 

Billy  was  swinging  in  the  hammock,  at  peace  with  him- 
self and,  all  the  world,  when  he  thought  he  heard  some- 
thing. He  sat  bolt  upright,  his  eyes  staring.  Once  he 
opened  his  lips,  then  thought  again  and  closed  them.  The 
sound  persisted.  Billy  vaulted  the  fence,  and  ran  down 
the  road  with  his  queer  sidewise  hop.  When  he  neared 
the  Comstock  cabin,  he  left  the  warm  dust  of  the  highway 
and  stepped  softly  at  slower  pace  over  the  rank  grasses 
by  the  roadside.  He  had  heard  aright.  The  violin  was 
in  the  grape  arbour,  singing  like  mad,  singing  a  per- 
fect jumble  of  everything,  poured  out  in  an  exultant 
tumult.  The  strings  were  voicing  the  joy  of  a  happy  girl 
heart. 

Billy  climbed  the  fence  enclosing  the  west  woods  and 
crept  down  toward  the  arbour.  He  was  not  a  spy  and  not 
a  sneak.  He  merely  wanted  to  satisfy  his  child-heart  as  to 
whether  Mrs.  Comstock  was  at  home,  and  Elnora  at  last 
playing  her  loved  violin  with  her  mother's  consent.  One 
peep  sufficed.  Mrs.  Comstock  sat  in  the  moonlight,  her 
head  leaning  against  the  arbour;  on  her  face  was  a  look  of 

323 


324  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

perfect  peace  and  contentment.  As  he  stared  at  her  the 
bow  hesitated  a  second  and  Mrs.  Comstock  spoke. 

"That's  all  very  melodious  and  sweet,"  she  said,  "but 
I  do  wish  you  could  play  Money  Musk  and  some  of  the 
tunes  I  danced  as  a  girl. " 

Elnora  had  been  avoiding  carefully  every  note  that 
might  be  reminiscent  of  her  father.  At  the  words  she 
laughed  softly  and  struck  into  "Turkey  in  the  Straw." 
An  instant  later  Mrs.  Comstock  was  dancing  like  mad  in 
the  moonlight.  Ammon  sprang  to  her  side,  caught  her 
in  his  arms,  while  to  Elnora's  laughter  and  the  violin's 
impetus  they  danced  until  they  dropped  panting  on 
the  arbour  bench. 

Billy  scarcely  knew  when  he  got  back  on  the  road.  His 
light  feet  barely  touched  the  soft  way,  so  swiftly  he  flew. 
He  vaulted  the  fence  and  burst  into  the  house, 

"Aunt  Margaret!  Uncle  Wesley!"  he  screamed. 
"Listen!  Listen!  She's  playing  it!  Elnora's  playing 
her  violin  at  home!  And  Aunt  Kate  is  dancing  like  any- 
thing before  the  arbour!  I  saw  her  in  the  moonlight! 
I  ran  down!     Oh,  Aunt  Margaret!" 

Billy  fled  to  his  haven  and  sobbed  on  Margaret's 
breast. 

"Why,  Billy!"  she  chided.  "Don't  cry,  you  little 
dunce!  That's  what  we've  all  prayed  for  these  many 
years;  but  you  must  be  mistaken  about  Kate.  I  can't 
believe  it. " 

Billy  lifted  his  head.  "Well,  you  just  have  to!"  he 
said.     "When  I  say  I  saw  anything,  Uncle  Wesley  knows 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  DANCES  325 

I  did.  The  city  man  was  dancing  with  her.  They  danced 
together  and  Elnora  laughed.  But  it  didn't  look  funny 
to  me;  I  was  scared." 

"Who  was  it  said  'wonders  would  never  cease'?"  asked 
Wesley.  "You  mark  my  word,  once  you  get  Kate  Corn- 
stock  started,  you  can't  stop  her.  There's  a  wagon  load 
of  penned-up  force  in  her.  Dancing  in  the  moonlight! 
Well,  I'll  be  hanged!" 

Billy  was  at  his  side  instantly.  "Well,  whoever  does  it 
will  have  to  hang  me,  too, "  he  cried. 

Sinton  threw  his  arm  around  Billy  and  drew  him  close. 
"Tell  us  all  about  it,  son,"  he  said.  Billy  told.  "And 
when  Elnora  just  stopped  a  breath,  'Can't  you  play  some 
of  the  old  things  I  knew  when  I  was  a  girl?'  said  her  ma. 
Then  Elnora  began  to  do  a  thing  that  made  you  want  to 
whirl  round  and  round,  and  quicker  'an  scat  there  was  her 
ma  a-whirling.  The  city  man,  he  ups  and  grabs  her  and 
whirls,  too,  and  back  in  the  woods  I  was  going  just  like 
they  did.  Elnora  begins  to  laugh,  and  I  ran  to  tell  you, 
'cos  I  knew  you'd  like  to  know.  Now,  all  the  world  is 
right,  ain't  it?"  ended  Billy  as  he  leaned  against  Sinton 
in  supreme  satisfaction. 

"You  just  bet  it  is!"  said  Wesley. 

Billy  looked  steadily  at  Margaret.  "Is  it,  Aunt  Mar- 
garet?" 

Margaret  Sinton  smiled  at  him  bravely. 

An  hour  later  when  Billy  was  ready  to  climb  the  stairs 
to  his  room,  he  went  to  Margaret  to  say  good-night.  He 
leaned  against  her  an  instant,  and  brought  his  lips  close 


326  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

to  her  ear.     "Wish  I  could  get  your  little  girls  back  for 
you!"  he  whispered  and  dashed  for  the  stairs. 

Down  at  the  Comstock  cabin  the  violin  played  on  until 
Elnora  was  so  tired  she  scarcely  could  lift  the  bow.  Then 
Ammon  went  home.  The  women  walked  to  the  gate  with 
him,  and  stood  watching  him  from  sight. 

"That's  what  I  call  one  decent  young  man!"  said  Mrs. 
Comstock.  "To  see  him  fit  in  with  us,  you'd  think  he'd 
been  raised  in  a  cabin;  but  it's  likely  he's  always  had  the 
very  cream  o'  the  pot. " 

"Yes,  I  think  so,"  laughed  Elnora,  "but  it  hasn't  hurt 
him.  I've  never  seen  anything  I  could  criticise.  He's 
teaching  me  so  much,  unconsciously.  You  know  he 
graduated  from  Harvard,  and  has  several  degrees  in  law. 
He's  coming  in  the  morning,  and  we  are  going  to  put  in  a 
big  day  on  Catocalae. " 

"Which  is ?" 

"Those  gray  moths  with  wings  that  fold  back  like  big 
flies,  and  they  appear  as  if  they  had  been  carved  from  old 
wood.  Then,  when  they  fly,  the  lower  wings  flash  out 
and  they  are  red  and  black,  or  gold  and  black,  or  pink 
and  black,  or  dozens  of  bright,  beautiful  colours  combined 
with  black.  No  one  ever  has  classified  all  of  them  and 
written  their  complete  history,  unless  the  Bird  Woman  is 
doing  it  now.  She  wants  everything  she  can  get  about 
them. " 

UI  remember,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "They  are 
mighty  pretty  things.  I've  started  up  slews  of  them 
from  the  vines  covering  the  logs,  all  my  life.     I  must  be 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  DANCES  327 

cautious  and  catch  them  after  this,  but  they  seem  power- 
ful spry.  I  might  get  hold  of  something  rare. "  She 
thought  intently  and  added,  "And  wouldn't  know  it  if  I 
did.  It  would  just  be  my  luck.  I've  had  the  rarest  thing 
on  earth  in  reach  this  many  a  day  and  only  had  the  wit  to 
cinch  it  just  as  it  was  going.  I'll  bet  I  don't  let  anything 
else  escape  me." 

Next  morning  Ammon  came  early,  and  he  and  Elnora 
went  at  once  to  the  fields  and  woods.  Mrs.  Comstock 
had  come  to  believe  so  implicitly  in  him  that  she  now 
stayed  at  home  to  complete  the  work  before  she  joined 
them,  and  when  she  did  she  often  sat  sewing,  leaving  them 
wandering  hours  at  a  time.  It  was  noon  before  she 
finished,  and  then  she  packed  a  basket  of  lunch.  She 
found  Elnora  and  Philip  near  the  violet  patch,  which  was 
still  in  its  prime.  They  all  lunched  together  in  the  shade 
of  a  wild  crab  thicket,  with  flowers  spread  at  their  feet,  and 
the  gold  orioles  streaking  the  air  with  flashes  of  light 
and  trailing  ecstasy  behind  them,  while  the  red-wings,  as 
always,  asked  the  most  impertinent  questions.  Then  Mrs. 
Comstock  carried  the  basket  back  to  the  cabin,  and 
Ammon  and  Elnora  sat  on  a  log,  resting  a  few  minutes. 
They  had  unexpected  luck,  and  both  were  eager  to  con- 
tinue the  search. 

"Do  you  remember  your  promise  about  these  violets?" 
asked  Ammon.  "To-morrow  is  Edith's  birthday,  and  if 
I'd  put  them  special  delivery  on  the  morning  train,  she'd 
get  them  in  the  late  afternoon.  They  ought  to  keep  well 
that  long.     She  leaves  for  the  north  next  day. " 


328  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Of  course,  you  can  have  them,"  said  Elnora.  "We 
will  quit  long  enough  before  supper  to  gather  a  great  bunch. 
They  can  be  packed  so  they  will  carry  all  right.  They 
should  be  perfectly  fresh,  especially  if  we  gather  them 
this  evening  and  let  them  drink  all  night. " 

Then  they  went  back  to  hunt  Catocalse.  It  was  a  long 
and  a  happy  search.  It  led  them  into  new,  unexplored 
nooks  of  the  woods,  by  a  red-poll  nest,  and  where  gold- 
finches prospected  for  thistledown  for  the  cradles  they 
would  line  a  little  later.  It  led  them  into  real  forest, 
where  deep,  dark  pools  lay,  where  the  hermit  thrush  and 
the  wood  robin  extracted  the  essence  from  all  other  bird 
melody,  and  poured  it  out  in  their  pure  bell-tone  notes. 
It  seemed  as  if  every  old  gray  tree-trunk,  slab  of  loose 
bark,  and  prostrate  log  yielded  the  flashing  gray  treasures; 
while  of  all  others  they  seemed  to  take  alarm  most  easily, 
and  be  most  difficult  to  capture. 

Ammon  came  to  Elnora  at  dusk,  daintily  holding  one 
by  the  body,  its  dark  wings  showing  and  its  long  slender 
legs  trying  to  clasp  his  fingers  and  creep  from  his  hold. 

"Oh,  for  mercy's  sake!"  cried  Elnora,  and  stared  at 
him. 

"I  half  believe  it!"  exulted  Ammon. 

"Did  you  ever  see  one?" 

"Only  in  collections,  and  mighty  seldom  there." 

Elnora  studied  the  black  wings  intently.  "  I  surely  be- 
lieve that's  Sappho,"  she  marvelled.  "The  Bird  Woman 
will  be  overjoyed. " 

"We  must  get  the  cyanide  jar  quickly,"  said  Ammon. 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  DANCES  329 

"I  wouldn't  lose  her  for  a  hundred  dollars.  Such  a  chase 
as  she  led  me!" 

Elnora  got  the  jar  and  began  gathering  up  parapher- 
nalia. 

"When  you  make  a  find  like  that,"  she  said,  "it's  the 
right  time  to  quit  and  feel  glorious  all  the  rest  of  that  day. 
I  tell  you  I'm  proud!  We  will  go  now.  We  have  barely 
time  to  carry  out  our  plans  before  supper.  Won't  mother 
be  pleased  to  see  that  we  have  a  rare  one?" 

"I'd  like  to  see  any  one  more  pleased  than  I  am!"  said 
Philip  Ammon.  "I  feel  as  if  I'd  earned  my  supper  to- 
night.    Let's  go." 

He  took  the  greater  part  of  the  load  and  stepped  aside 
for  Elnora  to  precede  him.  She  went  down  the  path, 
broken  by  the  grazing  cattle,  toward  the  cabin  and  nearest 
the  violet  patch  she  stopped,  laid  down  her  net,  and  the 
things  she  carried.  Ammon  passed  her  and  hurried 
straight  toward  the  back  gate. 

"Aren't  you  going  to ?"  began  Elnora. 

"I'm  going  to  get  this  moth  home  in  a  hurry,"  he  said. 
"This  cyanide  has  lost  its  strength,  and  it's  not  working 
well.     We  need  some  fresh  in  the  jar." 

He  had  forgotten  the  violets!  Elnora  stood  looking 
after  him,  a  curious  expression  on  her  face.  One  second 
so  —  then  she  picked  up  the  net  and  followed.  At  the 
blue-bordered  pool  she  paused  and  half  turned  back,  then 
she  closed  her  lips  firmly  and  went  on.  It  was  nine  o'clock 
when  Ammon  said  good-bye,  and  started  to  town.  His 
gay  whistle  floated  to  them  from  the  farthest  corner  of  the 


330  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Limberlost.  Elnora  complained  of  being  tired,  so  she 
went  to  her  room  and  to  bed.  But  sleep  would  not  come. 
Thought  was  racing  in  her  brain  and  the  longer  she  lay  the 
wider  awake  she  grew.  At  last  she  softly  slipped  from 
bed,  lighted  her  lamp  and  began  opening  boxes.  Then 
she  went  to  work.  Two  hours  later  a  beautiful  birch  bark 
basket,  strongly  and  artistically  made  stood  on  her  table. 
She  set  a  tiny  alarm  clock  at  three,  returned  to  bed  and  fell 
asleep  instantly  with  a  smile  on  her  lips. 

She  was  on  the  floor  with  the  first  tinkle  of  the  alarm, 
and  hastily  dressing,  she  picked  up  the  basket  and  a  box 
to  fit  it,  crept  down  the  stairs,  and  out  to  the  violet  patch. 
She  was  unafraid,  as  it  was  so  near  morning,  and  lining 
the  basket  with  damp  mosses  she  swiftly  began  picking 
with  practised  hands  the  youngest  of  the  flowers.  It  was 
so  dark  she  scarcely  could  tell  which  were  freshest  at  times, 
but  day  soon  came  creeping  over  the  Limberlost  and 
peeped  down  at  her.  The  robins  awoke  all  their  neigh- 
bours, and  a  babel  of  bird  notes  filled  the  air.  The  dew 
was  dripping,  and  the  first  strong  rays  of  light  fell  on  a 
world  in  which  Elnora  worshipped.  When  the  basket 
was  filled  to  overflowing,  she  set  it  in  the  stout  pasteboard 
box,  packed  it  solid  with  mosses,  tied  it  firmly  and  slipped 
under  the  cord  a  note  she  had  v/ritten  the  previous  night. 
Then  she  took  a  short  cut  across  the  woods  and  walked 
swiftly  to  Onabasha.  It  was  after  six  o'clock,  but  all 
of  the  city  she  wished  to  avoid  were  asleep.  She  had  no 
trouble  in  finding  a  small  boy  out,  and  she  stood  at  a 
distance  waiting  while  he  rang  Dr.  Ammon's  bell  and 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  DANCES  331 

delivered  the  package  for  Philip  to  a  maid,  with  the  note 
which  was  to  be  given  him  at  once. 

On  the  way  heme  through  the  woods  passing  some 
baited  trees  she  collected  the  captive  moths.  She  entered 
the  kitchen  with  them  so  naturally  that  Mrs.  Comstock 
made  no  comment.  After  breakfast  Elnora  went  to  her 
room,  cleared  away  all  trace  of  the  night's  work  and  was 
out  in  the  arbour  mounting  moths  when  Ammon  came 
down  the  read.  "I'm  tired  sitting,"  she  said  to  her 
mother.  "I  think  I  will  walk  a  few  rods  and  meet 
him." 

"Who's  a  trump?"  called  Ammon  from  afar. 

"Well,  not  you!"  retorted  Elnora.  "Confess  that  you 
forgot!" 

"Completely!"  said  Ammon.  "But  luckily  it  would 
not  have  been  fatal.  I  wrote  Polly  last  week  to  send 
Edith  something  appropriate  and  handsome  to-day,  with 
my  card.  But  that  touch  from  the  woods  will  be  mighty 
effective.  Thank  you  more  than  I  can  say.  Aunt  Anna 
and  I  unpacked  it  to  see  the  basket,  and  it  was  a  beauty. 
She  says  you  are  always  doing  things  like  that. " 

"Well,  I  hope  not!"  laughed  Elnora.  "If  you'd  seen 
me  sneaking  out  before  dawn,  not  to  waken  mother  and 
coming  in  with  moths  to  make  her  think  I'd  been  to  the 
trees,  you'd  know  it  was  a  most  especial  occasion." 

Then  Ammon  understood  two  things.  Elnora's  mother 
did  not  know  of  the  early  morning  trip  to  the  city,  and  the 
girl  had  come  to  meet  him  to  tell  him  so. 

"You  were  a  brick  to  do  it!"  he  whispered  as  he  closed 


332  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

the  gate  behind  them.  "I'll  never  forget  you  for  it. 
Thank  you  ever  so  much.     You  are  too  kind  to  me. " 

"I  did  not  do  that  for  you,"  said  Elnora  tersely.  "I 
did  it  mostly  to  preserve  my  own  self-respect.  I  saw  you 
were  forgetting.  If  I  did  it  for  anything  besides  that,  I 
did  it  for  her. " 

"Just  look  what  I've  brought!"  said  Ammon  entering 
the  arbour  and  greeting  Mrs,  Comstock.  "Borrowed 
it  of  the  Bird  Woman.  And  it  isn't  hers.  A  rare  edition 
of  Catocalse  with  coloured  plates.  I  told  her  the  best  I 
could,  and  she  said  to  try  for  Sappho  here.  I  suspect  the 
Bird  Woman  will  be  out  presently.  She  was  all  excite- 
ment. " 

Then  they  bent  over  the  book  together  and  with  the 
mounted  moth  before  them  determined  her  family.  The 
Bird  Woman  did  come  later,  and  carried  the  moth  away 
to  put  into  a  book  and  Elnora  and  Ammon  were  freshly 
filled  with  enthusiasm. 

So  these  days  were  the  beginning  of  the  weeks  that  fol- 
lowed. Six  of  them  flying  on  Time's  wings,  each  filled 
to  the  brim  with  interest.  After  June,  the  moth  hunts 
grew  less  frequent;  the  fields  and  woods  were  scoured  for 
material  for  Elnora's  grade  work.  The  most  absorbing 
occupation  they  found  was  in  carrying  out  Mrs.  Com- 
stock's  suggestion  to  learn  the  vital  thing  for  which  each 
month  was  distinctive,  and  make  that  the  key  to  the 
nature  work.  They  wrote  out  a  list  of  the  months,  op- 
posite each  the  things  all  of  them  could  suggest  which 
seemed  to  pertain  to  that  month  alone,  and  then  tried  to 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  DANCES  333 

sift  until  they  found  something  typical.  Mrs.  Comstock 
was  a  great  help.  Her  mother  had  been  Dutch  and  had 
brought  from  Holland  numerous  quaint  sayings  and  su- 
perstitions easily  traceable  to  Pliny's  Natural  History;  and 
in  Mrs.  Comstock's  early  years  in  Ohio  she  had  heard 
much  Indian  talk  among  her  elders,  so  she  knew  the  signs 
of  each  season,  and  sometimes  they  helped.  Always  her 
practical  thought  and  sterling  common-sense  were  useful. 
When  they  were  afield  until  exhausted  they  came  back  to 
the  cabin  for  food,  to  prepare  specimens  and  classify  them, 
and  to  talk  over  the  day.  Sometimes  Ammon  brought 
books  and  read  while  Elnora  and  her  mother  worked,  and 
every  night  Mrs.  Comstock  asked  for  the  violin.  Her 
perfect  hunger  for  music  was  sufficient  evidence  of  how 
she  had  suffered  without  it.  So  the  days  crept  by,  golden, 
filled  with  useful  work  and  pure  pleasure. 

The  grosbeak  had  led  the  family  in  the  maple  abroad 
and  a  second  brood,  in  a  wild  grape  vine  clambering  over 
the  well,  was  almost  ready  for  flight.  .  The  dust  lay  thick 
on  the  country  roads,  the  days  grew  warmer;  summer  was 
just  poising  to  slip  into  fall,  and  Ammon  stayed  on,  com- 
ing each  day  as  if  he  had  belonged  there  always  and  ex- 
pected to  remain  forever. 

One  warm  August  afternoon  Mrs.  Comstock  looked  up 
from  the  ruffle  on  which  she  was  engaged  to  see  a  blue- 
coated  messenger  enter  the  gate. 

"Is  Philip  Ammon  here?"  asked  the  boy. 

"He  is,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"I  have  a  message  for  him." 


334  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"He  is  in  the  woods  back  of  the  cabin.  I  will  ring  the 
bell,  and  he  will  come.     Do  you  know  if  it  is  important?" 

"Urgent,"  said  the  boy;  "I  rode  hard." 

Mrs.  Comstock  stepped  to  the  back  door  and  clanged 
the  dinner  bell  sharply,  paused  a  second,  and  rang  again. 
In  a  short  time  Ammon  and  Elnora  came  down  the  path 
on  the  run. 

"Are  you  ill,  mother?"  cried  Elnora. 

Mrs.  Comstock  indicated  the  boy.  "There  is  an  im- 
portant message  for  Philip, "  she  said. 

Ammon  muttered  an  excuse  and  tore  open  the  telegram. 
His  colour  faded  slightly.  "I  have  to  take  the  first  train," 
he  said.     "My  father  is  ill  and  I  am  needed." 

He  handed  the  sheet  to  Elnora.  "I  have  about  two 
hours,  as  I  remember  the  trains  north,  but  my  things  are 
all  over  Uncle  Doc's  house,  so  I  must  go  at  once. " 

"Certainly,"  said  Elnora,  giving  back  the  message. 
"Is  there  anything  I  can  do  to  help?  Mother,  get  Philip 
a  glass  of  buttermilk  to  start  on.  I  will  gather  what  you 
have  here. " 

"Never  mind.  There  is  nothing  of  importance.  I 
don't  want  to  be  hampered.  I'll  send  for  it  if  I  miss  any- 
thing I  need." 

Ammon  drank  the  milk,  said  good-bye  to  Mrs.  Com- 
stock, repeatedly  thanked  her  for  all  her  kindness,  and 
turned  to  Elnora. 

"Will  you  walk  to  the  edge  of  the  Limberlost  with  me?" 
he  asked.  Elnora  assented.  Mrs.  Comstock  followed 
to  the  gate,  urged  him  to  come  again  soon,  and  repeated 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  DANCES  335 

her  good-bye.  Then  she  went  back  to  the  arbour  to  await 
Elnora's  return.  As  she  watched  down  the  road  she 
smiled  softly. 

"  I  had  an  idea  he  would  speak  to  me  first, "  she  thought, 
"but  this  may  change  things  some.  He  hasn't  time. 
Elnora  will  come  back  a  happy  girl,  and  she  has  good 
reason.  He  is  a  model  young  man.  Her  lot  will  be 
mighty  different  from  mine." 

She  picked  up  her  embroidery  and  began  setting  dainty, 
precise  little  stitches,  possible  only  to  certain  women. 

On  the  road  Elnora  spoke  first.  "  I  do  hope  it  is  noth- 
ing serious,"  she  said.     "Is  he  usually  strong?" 

"Quite  strong,"  said  Philip.  "I  am  not  at  all  alarmed 
but  I  am  very  much  ashamed.  I  have  been  well  enough 
for  the  last  month  to  have  gone  home  and  helped  him 
with  some  critical  cases  that  were  keeping  him  at  work  in 
this  heat.  I  was  enjoying  myself  so  I  wouldn't  offer  to 
go,  and  he  would  not  ask  me  to  come,  so  long  as  he  could 
help  it.  I  have  allowed  him  to  overtax  himself  until  he  is 
down,  and  mother  and  Polly  are  north  at  our  cottage. 
He's  never  been  sick  before,  and  it's  probable  I  am  to 
blame  that  he  is  now." 

"He  intended  you  to  stay  this  long  when  you  came," 
urged  Elnora. 

"Yes,  but  it's  hot  in  Chicago.  I  should  have  remem- 
bered him.  He  is  always  thinking  of  me.  Possibly  he 
has  needed  me  for  days.  I  am  ashamed  to  go  to  him  in 
splendid  condition  and  admit  that  I  was  having  such  a 
fine  time  I  forgot  to  come  home." 


336  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"You  have  had  a  fine  time,  then?"  asked  Elnora. 

They  had  reached  the  fence.  Ammon  vaulted  over  to 
take  a  short  cut  across  the  fields.  He  turned  and  looked 
at  her. 

"The  best,  the  sweetest,  and  most  wholesome  time  any 
man  ever  had  in  this  world,"  he  said.  "Elnora,  if  I 
talked  hours  I  couldn't  make  you  understand  what  a  girl 
I  think  you  are.  I  never  in  all  my  life  hated  anything  as 
I  hate  leaving  you.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  not 
strength  to  do  it." 

"If  you  have  gotten  anything  worth  while  from  me," 
said  Elnora,  "that  should  be  it.  Just  to  have  strength 
to  go  to  your  duty,  and  to  go  quickly. " 

Ammon  caught  the  hand  she  held  out  to  him  in  both 
his.  "Elnora,  these  days  we  have  had  together,  have 
they  been  sweet  to  you  ? " 

"Beautiful  days!"  said  Elnora.  "Each  like  a  perfect 
dream  to  be  thought  over  and  over  all  my  life.  Oh,  they 
have  been  the  only  really  happy  days  I've  ever  known; 
these  days  rich  with  mother's  love,  and  doing  useful  work 
with  your  help.     Good-bye!     You  must  hurry!" 

Ammon  gazed  at  her.  He  tried  to  drop  her  hand,  and 
only  clutched  it  closer.  Suddenly  he  drew  her  toward 
him.  "Elnora,"  he  whispered,  "will  you  kiss  me  good- 
bye?" 

Elnora  drew  back  and  stared  at  him  with  wide  eyes. 
"I'd  strike  you  sooner!"  she  said.  "Have  I  ever  said  or 
done  anything  in  your  presence  that  made  you  feel  free  to 
ask  that,  Philip  Ammon?" 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  DANCES  337 

"No!"  panted  Ammon.  "No!  I  think  so  much  of 
you,  I  just  wanted  to  touch  your  lips  once  before  I  left 
you.     You  know  Elnora " 

"Don't  distress  yourself,"  said  Elnora  calmly.  "I  am 
broad  enough  to  judge  you  sanely.  I  know  what  you 
mean.  It  would  be  no  harm  to  you.  It  would  not  mat- 
ter to  me,  but  here  we  will  think  of  some  one  else.  Edith 
Carr  would  not  want  your  lips  to-morrow  if  she  knew 
they  had  touched  mine  to-day.  I  was  wise  to  say  'Go 
quickly!'" 

Ammon  still  clung  to  her.  "Will  you  write  me?"  he 
begged. 

"No,"  said  Elnora.  "There  is  nothing  to  say,  save 
good-bye.     We  can  do  that  now. " 

Ammon  held  on.  "Promise  that  you  will  write  me 
only  one  letter,"  he  urged.  "I  want  just  one  message 
from  you  to  lock  in  my  desk,  and  keep  always.  Promise 
you  will  write  once,  Elnora. " 

Elnora  looked  straight  into  his  eyes,  and  smiled  se- 
renely. "If  the  talking  trees  tell  me  this  winter  the 
secret  of  how  a  man  may  grow  perfect,  I  will  write  you 
what  it  is,  Philip.  In  all  the  time  I  have  known  you,  I 
never  have  liked  you  so  little.     Good-bye. " 

She  drew  away  her  hand  and  swiftly  turned  back  to  the 
road.  Philip  Ammon,  wordless,  started  toward  Onabasha 
on  a  run. 

Elnora  crossed  the  road,  climbed  the  fence  and  sought 
the  shelter  of  their  own  woods.  She  took  a  diagonal 
course  and  followed  it  until  she  came  to  the  path  leading 


338  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

past  the  violet  patch.  She  went  down  this  hurriedly. 
Her  hands  were  clenched  at  her  sides,  her  eyes  dry  and 
bright,  her  cheeks  red-flushed,  and  her  breath  coming 
fast.  When  she  reached  the  patch  she  turned  into  it  and 
stood  looking  around  her. 

The  mosses  were  dry,  the  flowers  gone,  weeds  a  foot 
high  covered  it.  She  turned  away  and  went  on  down  the 
path  until  she  was  almost  in  sight  of  the  cabin. 

Mrs.  Comstock  smiled  and  waited  in  the  arbour  until  it 
dawned  on  her  that  Elnora  was  a  long  time  coming,  so  she 
went  to  the  gate.  The  road  stretched  away  toward  the 
Limberlost  empty  and  lonely.  Then  she  knew  that 
Elnora  had  gone  into  their  own  woods  and  would  come  in 
the  back  way.  She  could  not  understand  why  the  girl 
did  not  hurry  to  her  with  what  she  would  have  to  tell. 
She  went  out  and  wandered  around  the  garden.  Then 
she  stepped  into  the  path  and  started  back  along  the  way 
leading  to  the  woods,  past  the  pool  now  framed  in  a  thick 
setting  of  yellow  lilies.  Then  she  saw,  and  stopped,  gasp- 
ing for  breath.  Her  hands  flew  up  and  her  lined  face  grew 
ghastly.  She  stared  at  the  sky  and  then  at  the  prostrate 
girl  figure.  Over  and  over  she  tried  to  speak,  but  only  a 
dry  breath  came.     She  turned  and  fled  back  to  the  garden. 

In  the  familiar  enclosure  she  gazed  around  her  like  a 
caged  animal  seeking  escape.  The  sun  beat  down  on  her 
bare  head  mercilessly,  and  mechanically  she  moved  over 
to  the  shade  of  a  half-grown  hickory  tree  that  voluntarily 
had  sprouted  by  the  milk  house.  At  her  feet  lay  an  axe 
with  which  she  made  kindlings  for  fires.     She  stooped  and 


MRS.  COMSTOCK  DANCES  339 

picked  it  up.  That  prone  figure  sobbing  in  the  grass  caught 
her  with  a  renewed  spasm.  She  shut  her  eyes  as  if  to  close 
it  out.  That  made  hearing  so  acute  she  felt  certain  she 
heard  Elnora  moaning  by  the  path.  The  eyes  flew  open. 
They  fell  squarely  on  a  few  spindling  tomato  plants  set 
too  near  the  tree  and  stunted  by  its  shade.  Mrs.  Corn- 
stock  whirled  on  the  hickory  and  swung  the  axe.  Her 
hair  shook  down,  her  clothing  became  disarranged;  in  the 
heat  the  perspiration  streamed,  but  stroke  fell  on  stroke 
until  the  tree  crashed  over,  grazing  a  corner  of  the  milk 
house  and  smashing  the  garden  fence  on  the  east. 

At  the  sound  Elnora  sprang  to  her  feet  and  came  run- 
ning down  the  garden  walk.  "Mother!"  she  cried. 
"Mother!     What  in  the  world  are  you  doing?" 

Mrs.  Comstock  wiped  her  ghastly  face  on  her  apron. 
"I've  laid  out  to  cut  that  tree  for  years,"  she  said.  "It 
shades  the  beets  in  the  morning,  and  the  tomatoes  in  the 
afternoon ! " 

Elnora  uttered  one  wild  little  cry  and  fled  into  her 
mother's  arms.  "Oh,  mother!"  she  sobbed.  "Will  you 
ever  forgive  me?" 

Mrs.  Comstock's  arms  swept  together  in  a  tight  grip 
around  Elnora. 

"There  isn't  a  thing  on  God's  footstool  from  a  to  izzard 
I  won't  forgive  you,  my  precious  girl!"  she  said.  "Tell 
mother  what  it  is!" 

Elnora  lifted  her  wet  face.  "He  told  me,"  she  panted, 
"just  as  soon  as  he  decently  could  —  that  second  day  he 
told  me.     Almost  all  his  life  he's  been  engaged  to  a  girl 


340  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

at  home.  He  never  cared  anything  about  me.  He  was 
just  interested  in  the  moths  and  growing  strong. " 

Mrs.  Comstock's  arms  tightened.  With  a  shaking  hand 
she  stroked  the  bright  hair. 

"Tell  me,  honey,"  she  said.  "Is  he  to  blame  for  a 
single  one  of  these  tears?" 

"Not  one!"  sobbed  Elnora.  "Oh,  mother,  I  won't  for- 
give you  if  you  don't  believe  that.  Not  one  I  He  never 
said,  or  looked,  or  did  anything  all  the  world  might  not 
have  known.  He  likes  me  very  much  as  a  friend.  He 
hated  to  go  dreadfully!" 

"Elnora!"  the  mother's  head  bent  until  the  white  hair 
mingled  with  the  brown.  "Elnora,  why  didn't  you  tell 
me  at  first?" 

Elnora  caught  her  breath  in  a  sharp  snatch.  "I  know 
I  should!"  she  sobbed.  "I  will  bear  any  punishment  for 
not,  but  I  didn't  feel  as  if  I  possibly  could.     I  was  afraid." 

"Afraid  of  what?"  the  shaking  hand  was  on  the  hair 
again. 

"Afraid  you  wouldn't  let  him  come!"  panted  Elnora. 
"And,  oh,  mother,  I  wanted  him  so!" 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Wherein    Mrs.   Comstock  Experiments  with  Reju- 
venation, and  Elnora  Teaches 
Natural  History 

For  the  next  week  Mrs.  Comstock  and  Elnora  worked 
so  hard  there  was  no  time  to  talk,  and  they  were  com- 
pelled to  sleep  from  physical  exhaustion.  Neither  of 
them  made  any  pretence  of  eating,  for  they  could  not 
swallow  without  a  great  effort,  so  they  drank  milk  and 
worked.  Elnora  went  on  setting  bait  for  Catacolae  and 
Sphinginse,  which,  unlike  the  big  moths  of  June,  live 
several  months.  She  took  all  the  dragon-flies  and  butter- 
flies she  could,  and  when  she  went  over  the  list  for  the  man 
of  India,  she  found,  to  her  amazement,  that  with  Am- 
nion's help  she  once  more  had  it  complete  save  a  pair  of 
Yellow  Emperors. 

■  This  circumstance  was  so  amazing  she  had  a  fleeting 
thought  of  writing  Ammon  and  asking  him  to  see  if  he  could 
not  secure  her  a  pair.  She  did  tell  the  Bird  Woman,  and 
from  every  source  at  her  command  she  tried  to  complete 
the  series  with  these  moths,  and  could  not  find  any  for  sale. 
"I  think  the  mills  of  the  Gods  are  grinding  this  grist," 
said  Elnora,  "and  we  might  as  well  wait  patiently  until 
they  choose  to  send  a  Yellow  Emperor. " 

341 


342  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Mrs.  Comstock  invented  work.  When  she  had  noth- 
ing more  to  do,  she  hoed  in  the  garden  although  the  earth 
was  hard  and  dry  and  there  were  no  plants  that  really 
needed  attention.  Then  came  a  notification  that  Elnora 
would  be  compelled  to  attend  a  week's  session  of  the 
Teachers'  Institute  held  at  the  county  seat  twenty  miles 
north  of  Onabasha  the  following  week.  That  gave  them 
something  of  which  to  think  and  real  work  to  do.  Elnora 
was  requested  to  bring  her  violin.  As  she  was  on  the 
programme  of  one  of  the  most  important  sessions  for  a 
talk  on  nature  work  in  grade  schools,  she  was  driven  tc 
prepare  her  speech,  and  to  select  and  practise  some  music. 
Her  mother  turned  her  attention  to  clothing. 

They  went  to  Onabasha  together  and  purchased  a 
simple  and  appropriate  fall  suit  and  hat,  goods  for  a  dainty 
little  coloured  frock,  and  a  dress  skirt  and  several  fancy 
waists.  Margaret  Sinton  came  down  and  the  sewing  began. 
When  everything  was  finished  and  packed,  Elnora  kissed 
her  mother  good-bye  at  the  depot,  and  the  train  pulled 
out.  Mrs.  Comstock  went  into  the  waiting-room  and 
dropped  into  a  seat  to  rest.  Her  heart  was  so  sore  her 
whole  right  side  felt  tender.  She  was  half  starved  for  the 
food  she  had  no  appetite  to  take.  She  had  worked  in 
dogged  determination  until  she  was  exhausted.  For  a 
time  she  simply  sat  and  rested.  Then  she  began  to  think. 
She  was  glad  Elnora  had  gone  where  she  would  be  com- 
pelled to  fix  her  mind  on  other  things  for  a  few  days.  She 
remembered  the  girl  had  said  she  wanted  to  go. 

School  would  begin  the  following  week.     She  thought 


EXPERIMENTS    WITH    REJUVENATION    343 

over  what  Elnora  would  have  to  do  to  accomplish  her 
work  successfully.  She  would  be  compelled  to  arise  at  t 
six  o'clock,  walk  three  miles  through  varying  weather, 
lead  the  high  school  orchestra,  and  then  put  in  the  rest  of 
the  day  travelling  from  building  to  building  over  the 
city,  teaching  a  specified  length  of  time  every  week  in  each 
room.  She  must  have  her  object  lessons  ready,  and  she 
must  do  a  certain  amount  of  practising  with  the  orchestra. 
Then  a  cold  lunch  at  noon,  and  a  three-mile  walk  at  night. 

"Humph!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "To  get  through  that 
the  girl  would  have  to  be  made  of  cast-iron.  I  wonder 
how  I  can  help  her  best?" 

She  plunged  in  deepest  thought  again. 

"The  less  she  sees  of  what  she's  been  having  all  summer, 
the  sooner  she'll  feel  better  about  it,"  she  muttered. 

She  arose,  went  to  the  bank  and  inquired  for  the  cashier. 

"I  want  to  know  just  how  I  am  fixed  here,"  she  said. 

The  cashier  laughed.  "Well,  you  haven't  been  in  a 
hurry,"  he  replied.  "We  have  been  ready  for  you  any 
time  these  twenty  years,  but  you  didn't  seem  to  pay  much 
attention.  Your  account  is  rather  flourishing.  Interest, 
when  it  gets  to  compounding,  is  quite  a  money  breeder. 
Come  back  here  to  a  table  and  I  will  show  you  your 
balances." 

Mrs.  Comstock  6ank  into  a  chair  and  waited  while  the 
cashier  read  a  jumble  of  figures  to  her.  It  meant  that 
her  deposits  had  exceeded  her  expenses  from  one  to  three 
hundred  dollars  a  year,  according  to  the  cattle,  sheep,  hogs 
poultry,  butter,  and  eggs  she  had  sold.     The  aggregate 


344  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

of  these  sums  had  been  compounding  interest  through- 
out the  years.  Mrs.  Comstock  stared  at  the  total  with 
dazed  and  unbelieving  eyes.  Through  her  sick  heart 
rushed  the  realization,  that  if  she  merely  had  stood  before 
that  wicket  and  asked  one  question,  she  would  have 
known  that  all  those  bitter  years  of  skimping  for  Elnora 
and  herself  had  been  unnecessary.  She  arose  and  went 
back  to  the  depot. 

"I  want  to  send  a  message,"  she  said.  She  picked  up 
the  pencil  and,  with  rash  extravagance,  wrote,  "Found 
money  at  bank  didn't  know  about.  If  you  want  to  go  to 
college,  come  on  first  train  and  get  ready."  She  hesi- 
tated a  second  and  then  she  said  to  herself  grimly,  "Yes, 
I'll  pay  for  that,  too,"  and  recklessly  added,  "With  love, 
Mother."  Then  she  sat  waiting  for  the  answer.  It 
came  in  less  than  an  hour.  "Going  to  teach  this  winter. 
With  dearest  love,  Elnora." 

Mrs.  Comstock  held  the  message  a  long  time.  When 
she  arose  she  was  ravenously  hungry,  but  the  pain  in  her 
heart  was  a  little  easier.  She  went  to  a  restaurant  and 
got  some  food,  then  to  a  dressmaker  where  she  ordered 
four  dresses,  two  very  plain  everyday  ones,  a  serviceable 
dark  gray  cloth  suit,  and  a  soft  light  gray  silk  with  touches 
of  lavender  and  lace.  She  made  a  heavy  list  of  pur- 
chases at  Brownlee's,  and  the  remainder  of  the  day  she  did 
business  in  her  direct  and  spirited  way.  At  night  she  was 
so  tired  she  scarcely  could  walk  home,  but  she  built  a  fire 
and  cooked  and  ate  a  hearty  meal. 

„  Later  she  went  out  by  the  west  fence  and  gathered  an 


EXPERIMENTS    WITH    REJUVENATION    345 

armful  of  tansy  which  she  boiled  to  a  thick  green  tea. 
Then  she  stirred  in  oatmeal  until  it  was  a  stiff  paste.  She 
spread  a  sheet  over  her  bed  and  began  tearing  strips  of  old 
muslin.  She  bandaged  each  hand  and  arm  with  the  mix- 
ture and  plastered  the  soggy,  evil-smelling  stuff  in  a  thick 
poultice  over  her  face  and  neck.  She  was  so  tired  she 
had  to  sleep,  and  when  she  awoke  she  was  half  skinned. 
She  bathed  her  face  and  hands,  did  the  work  and  went 
back  to  town,  coming  home  at  night  to  go  through  the 
same  process. 

By  the  third  morning  she  was  a  raw  even  red,  the  fourth, 
she  had  faded  to  a  brilliant  pink  under  the  soothing  in- 
fluence of  a  cream  recommended.  That  day  came  a 
letter  from  Elnora  saying  that  she  would  remain  where 
she  was  until  Saturday  morning,  and  then  come  to  Ellen 
Brownlee's  at  Onabasha  and  stay  for  the  Saturday's 
session  of  teachers  to  arrange  their  year's  work.  Sunday 
was  Ellen's  last  day  at  home,  and  she  wanted  Elnora  very 
much.  She  had  to  get  together  the  orchestra  and  practise 
them  Sunday;  and  could  not  come  home  until  after  school 
Monday  night.  That  suited  Mrs.  Comstock,  and  she  at 
once  answered  the  letter  saying  so. 

The  next  day  Mrs.  Comstock  was  a  pale  pink,  and 
the  following  a  delicate  porcelain  white.  That  day  she 
went  to  a  hairdresser  and  had  the  great  rope  of  snowy 
hair  which  covered  her  scalp  washed,  dressed,  and  fastened 
with  such  pins  and  combs  as  were  decided  to  be  most  be- 
coming. She  took  samples  of  her  dresses,  went  to  a 
milliner,  and  bought  a  street  hat  to  match  her  suit,  and 


346  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

a  gray  satin  with  lavender  orchids  to  wear  with  the  silk 
dress.  Her  last  investment  was  a  loose  coat  of  soft  gray 
broadcloth  with  white  lining,  and  touches  of  lavender  on 
the  embroidered  collar,  and  gray  gloves  to  match. 

Then  she  went  home,  rested  and  worked  by  turns  until 
Monday.  When  school  closed  on  that  evening,  and 
Elnora,  so  tired  she  almost  trembled,  came  down  the  long 
walk  after  a  late  session  of  teachers'  meeting,  a  messenger 
boy  stopped  her. 

"There's  a  lady  wants  to  see  you  most  important.  I 
am  to  take  you  to  the  place, "  he  said. 

Elnora  groaned.  She  could  not  imagine  who  wanted 
her,  but  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  go  and  find  out, 
tired  and  anxious  to  see  her  mother  as  she  was. 

"This  is  the  place,"  said  the  boy,  and  went  his  way 
whistling.  Elnora  was  three  blocks  from  the  high  school 
building  on  the  same  street.  She  was  before  a  quaint  old 
house,  fresh  with  paint  and  covered  with  vines.  There 
was  a  long  wide  lot,  grass-covered,  closely  set  with  trees, 
and  a  barn  and  chicken  park  at  the  back  that  seemed  to  be 
occupied.  Elnora  stepped  on  the  veranda  which  was 
furnished  with  straw  rugs,  bent-hickory  chairs,  hanging 
baskets,  and  a  table  with  a  work-box  and  magazines,  and 
knocked  at  the  screen  door. 

Inside  she  could  see  bare  polished  floors,  walls  freshly 
papered  in  low-toned  harmonious  colours,  straw  rugs  and 
madras  curtains.  It  seemed  to  be  a  restful,  homelike 
place  to  which  she  had  come,  and  a  second  later  down  an 
open  stairway  came  a  tall,,  dark-eyed  woman  with  cheeks 


EXPERIMENTS    WITH    REJUVENATION    347 

faintly  pink  and  a  crown  of  fluffy  snow-white  hair.  She 
wore  a  lavender  gingham  dress  with  white  collar  and  cuffs, 
and  she  called  as  she  advanced,  "That  screen  isn't 
latched!  Open  it  and  come  see  your  brand-new  mother, 
my  girl." 

Elnora  stepped  inside  the  door.  "Mother!"  she  cried. 
"You  my  mother!     I  don't  believe  it!" 

"Well,  you  better!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock,  "because  it's 
true!  You  said  you  wished  I  were  like  the  other  girls' 
mothers,  and  I've  shot  as  close  the  mark  as  I  could  with- 
out any  practice.  I  thought  that  walk  would  be  too  much 
for  you  this  winter,  so  I  just  rented  this  house  and  moved 
in,  to  be  near  you,  and  help  more  in  case  I'm  needed.  I've 
only  lived  here  a  day,  but  I  like  it.  so  well  I've  a  mortal 
big  notion  to  buy  the  place. " 

"But,  mother!"  protested  Elnora,  clinging  to  her  won- 
deringly.  "You  are  perfectly  beautiful,  and  this  house  is 
a  little  paradise,  but  how  will  we  ever  pay  for  it?  We 
can't  afford  it!" 

"Humph!  Have  you  forgotten  I  telegraphed  you  I'd 
found  some  money  I  didn't  know  about?  All  I've  done 
is  paid  for,  and  plenty  more  to  settle  for  all  I  propose 
to  do." 

Mrs.  Comstock  glanced  around  with  supreme  satis- 
faction. 

"I  may  get  homesick  as  a  pup  before  spring,"  she  said, 
"but  if  I  do  I  can  go  back.  If  I  don't,  I'll  sell  some  timber 
and  put  a  few  oil  wells  where  they  don't  show  much.  I 
can  have  land  enough  cleared  for  a  few  fields  and  put  a 


348  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

tenant  on  our  farm,  and  we  will  buy  this  and  settle  here. 
It's  for  sale. " 

"You  don't  look  it,  but  you've  surely  gone  mad!" 
exclaimed  Elnora. 

"Just  the  reverse,  my  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock,  "I've 
gone  sane.  If  you  are  going  to  undertake  this  work,  you 
must  be  convenient  to  it.  And  your  mother  should  be 
where  she  can  see  that  you  are  properly  dressed,  fed,  and 
cared  for.  This  is  our  —  let  me  think  —  reception  room. 
How  do  you  like  it?  This  door  leads  to  your  workroom 
and  study.  I  didn't  do  much  there  because  I  wasn't 
sure  of  my  way.  But  I  knew  you  would  want  a  rug,  cur- 
tains, table,  shelves  for  books,  and  a  case  for  your  speci- 
mens, so  I  had  a  carpenter  shelve  and  enclose  that  end 
of  it.  Looks  pretty  neat  to  me.  The  dining  room  and 
kitchen  are  back,  one  of  the  cows  in  the  barn,  and  some 
chickens  in  the  coop.  I  understand  that  none  of  the  other 
girls'  mothers  milk  a  cow,  so  a  neighbour  boy  will  tend  to 
ours  for  a  third  of  the  milk.  There  are  three  bedrooms 
and  a  bath,  upstairs.  Go  take  one,  get  in  some  fresh 
clothes,  and  come  to  supper.  You  can  find  your  room 
because  your  things  are  in  it. " 

Elnora  kissed  her  mother  over  and  over,  and  hurried 
upstairs.  She  identified  her  room  by  the  dressing-case. 
There  was  a  pretty  rug,  and  curtains,  white  iron  bed, 
plain  and  rocking  chairs  to  match  her  case,  a  shirtwaist 
chest,  and  the  big  closet  was  filled  with  her  old  clothing 
and  several  new  dresses.  She  found  the  bathroom, 
bathed,  dressed  in  fresh  linen  and  went  down  to  a  supper 


EXPERIMENTS   WITH   REJUVENATION     349 

that  was  an  evidence  of  Mrs.  Comstock's  highest  art  in 
cooking.  Elnora  was  so  hungry  she  ate  her  first  real  meal 
in  two  weeks.  But  the  bites  went  down  slowly  because 
she  forgot  about  them  in  watching  her  mother. 

"How  on  earth  did  you  do  it?"  she  said  at  last.  "I 
always  thought  you  were  naturally  brown  as  a  nut. " 

"Oh,  that  was  just  tan  and  sunburn!"  explained  Mrs. 
Comstock.  "I  always  knew  I  was  white  underneath  it. 
I  hated  to  shade  my  face  because  I  hadn't  anything  but  a 
sunbonnet,  and  I  couldn't  stand  for  it  to  touch  my  ears, 
so  I  went  bareheaded  and  took  all  the  colour  I  accumu- 
lated. But  when  I  began  to  think  of  moving  you  in  to 
your  work,  I  saw  I  must  put  up  an  appearance  that 
wouldn't  disgrace  you,  so  I  thought  I'd  best  remove  the 
crust.  It  took  some  time,  and  I  hope  I  may  die  before  I 
ever  endure  the  feel  and  the  smell  of  the  stuff  I  used  again, 
but  it  skinned  me  nicely.  What  you  now  see  is  my  own 
with  just  a  little  dust  of  rice  powder,  for  protection.  I'm 
sort  of  tender  yet. " 

"And  your  lovely,  lovely  hair?"  breathed  Elnora. 

"Hairdresser  did  that!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "It 
cost  like  smoke.  But  I  watched  her,  and  with  a  little 
help  from  you  I  can  wash  it  alone  next  time,  though  it 
will  be  hard  work.  I  let  her  monkey  with  it  until  she 
said  she  had  found  'my  style. '  Then  I  tore  it  down  and 
had  her  show  me  how  to  build  it  up  again  three  times.  I 
thought  my  arms  would  drop.  When  I  paid  the  bill  for 
her  work,  the  time  I'd  taken,  the  pins,  and  combs  she'd 
used/I  nearly  had  heart  failure,  but  I  didn't  turn  a  hair 


3  so  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

before  her.  I  just  smiled  at  her  sweetly  and  said,  'How- 
reasonable  you  are!'  Come  to  think  of  it,  she  was!  She 
might  have  charged  me  ten  dollars  for  what  she  did  just 
as  well  as  nine  seventy-five.  I  couldn't  have  helped  my- 
self.    I  had  made  no  bargain  to  begin  on." 

Then  Elnora  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  shouted,  in 
a  gust  of  hearty  laughter,  and  a  little  of  the  ache  ceased 
in  her  breast.  There  was  no  time  to  think,  the  remainder 
of  that  evening,  she  was  so  tired  she  had  to  sleep,  and  her 
mother  did  not  awaken  her  until  she  barely  had  time  to 
dress,  breakfast  and  get  to  school.  There  was  nothing 
in  the  new  life  to  remind  her  of  the  old,  while  it  seemed  as 
if  there  never  came  a  minute  for  retrospection,  but  her 
mother  appeared  on  the  scene  with  more  work,  or  some 
entertaining  thing  to  do. 

Mrs.  Comstock  invited  Elnora's  friends  to  visit  her,  and 
proved  herself  a  bright  and  interesting  hostess.  She 
digested  a  subject  before  she  spoke;  and  when  she  ad- 
vanced a  view,  her  point  was  sure  to  be  original  and  tersely 
expressed.  Before  three  months  people  waited  to  hear 
what  she  had  to  say.  She  kept  her  appearance  so  in  mind 
that  she  made  a  handsome  and  a  distinguished  figure. 

Elnora  never  mentioned  Philip  Ammon,  neither  did 
Mrs.  Comstock.  Early  in  December  came  a  note  and  a 
big  box  from  him.  It  contained  several  books  on  nature 
subjects  which  would  be  a  great  help  in  school  work,  a 
number  of  conveniences  Elnora  could  not  afford,  and  a 
pair  of  glass-covered  plaster  casts  for  each  large  moth 
she  had.     In  these  the  upper  and  under  wings  of  male 


EXPERIMENTS    WITH    REJUVENATION    351 

and  female  showed.  Ammon  explained  that  she  would 
break  her  specimens  easily,  carrying  them  about  in  boxes. 
He  had  seen  these  and  thought  they  would  be  of  use. 
Elnora  was  delighted  with  them,  and  at  once  began  the 
tedious  process  of  softening  the  mounted  moths  and  fitting 
them  to  the  casts  moulded  to  receive  them.  Her  time 
was  so  taken  in  school,  she  progressed  slowly,  so  her 
mother  undertook  this  work.  After  trying  one  or  two 
very  common  ones  she  learned  to  handle  the  most  delicate 
with  ease.  She  took  keen  pride  in  relaxing  the  tense 
moths,  fitting  them  to  the  cases,  polishing  the  glass  covers 
to  the  last  degree  and  sealing  them.  The  results  were 
beautiful  to  behold. 

Soon  after  Elnora  wrote  Ammon: 

Dear  Friend: 

I  am  writing  to  thank  you  for  the  books,  and  the  box  of  conve- 
niences sent  me  for  my  work.  I  can  use  everything  with  fine  results. 
Hope  I  am  giving  good  satisfaction  in  my  position.  You  will  be 
interested  to  learn  that  when  the  summer's  work  was  classified  and 
pinned,  I  again  had  my  complete  collection  for  the  man  of  India,  save 
a  Yellow  Emperor.  I  have  tried  everywhere  I  know,  so  has  the  Bird 
Woman.  We  cannot  find  a  pair  for  sale.  Fate  is  against  me,  at 
least  this  season.     I  shall  have  to  wait  until  next  year  and  try  again. 

Thank  you  very  much  for  helping  me  with  my  collection  and  for  the 
books  and  things. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Elnora  Comstock. 

Ammon  was  disappointed  over  that  note  and  instead 
of  keeping  it  he  tore  it  into  bits  and  dropped  them  into 
the  waste  basket. 


352  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

v 

That  was  precisely  what  Elnora  hoped  he  would-  do. 

Christmas  brought  beautiful  cards  of  greeting  to  Mrs. 
Comstock  and  Elnora,  Easter  others,  and  the  year  went 
rapidly  toward  spring.  Elnora's  work  had  been  intensely 
absorbing,  and  she  had  gone  into  it  with  all  her  power. 
She  had  made  it  a  wonderful  success  and  won  new  friends. 
Mrs.  Comstock  had  helped  in  every  way  she  could,  and 
she  was  very  popular  also. 

Throughout  the  winter  they  had  enjoyed  the  city 
thoroughly,  and  the  change  of  life  it  afforded,  but  signs 
of  spring  did  wonderful  things  to  the  hearts  of  the  country- 
bred  women.  A  restlessness  began  on  bright  February 
days,  calmed  during  March  storms  and  attacked  full  force 
in  April.  When  neither  could  bear  it  any  longer  they 
were  forced  to  discuss  the  matter  and  admit  they  were 
growing  ill  with  pure  homesickness.  They  decided  to 
keep  the  city  house  during  the  summer,  but  to  go  back 
to  the  farm  to  live  just  as  soon  as  school  closed. 
-  So  Mrs.  Comstock  would  prepare  breakfast  and  lunch 
and  then  slip  away  to  the  farm  to  make  up  beds  in 
her  ploughed  garden,  plant  seeds,  trim  and  tend  her 
flowers,  and  prepare  the  cabin  for  occupancy.  Then  she 
i  would  go  home  and  make  the  evening  as  cheerful  as 
possible  for  Elnora;  in  these  days  she  lived  only  for  the 

girl. 

Both  of  them  were  glad  when  the  last  of  May  came  and 
the  schools  closed.  They  packed  the  books  and  clothing 
they  wished  to  take  into  a  wagon  and  walked  across  the 
fields  to  the  old  cabin.     As  they  approached  it,  Mrs. 


EXPERIMENTS    WITH    REJUVENATION    353 

Comstock  said  to  Elnora,  "You  are  sure  you  won't  be 
lonely  here?" 

Elnora  knew  what  she  really  meant. 

"Quite  sure,"  she  said.  "For  a  time  last  fall  I  was 
glad  to  be  away,  but  that  all  wore  out  with  the  winter. 
Spring  made  me  homesick  as  I  could  be.  I  can  scarcely 
wait  until  we  get  back  again. " 

So  they  began  that  summer  just  as  they  had  begun 
ail  others  —  with  work.  But  both  of  them  took  a  new 
joy  in  everything,  and  the  violin  sang  by  the  hour  in  the 
twilight. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Wherein  Philip  Ammon  Gives  a  Ball  in  Honour 

of  Edith  Carr,  and  Hart  Henderson 

Appears  on  the  Scene 

Edith  Carr  stood  in  a  vine-enclosed  side  veranda  of 
the  Lake  Shore  Club  House  waiting  while  Philip  Ammon 
gave  some  important  orders.  In  a  few  days  she  would 
sail  for  Paris  to  select  a  wonderful  trousseau  she  had 
planned  for  her  marriage  in  October.  To-night  Philip 
was  giving  a  club  dance  in  her  honour,  and  three  hundred 
of  their  friends  were  bidden  to  share  their  happiness. 
Philip  had  spent  days  in  devising  new  and  exquisite 
effects  in  decorations,  entertainment,  and  supper.  Weeks 
before  the  favoured  guests  had  been  notified.  Days 
before  they  had  received  the  invitations  asking  them  to 
participate  in  this  entertainment  by  Philip  Ammon  in 
honour  of  Miss  Carr.  They  spoke  of  it  as  "Phil's"  dance 
for  Edith! 

As  Edith  Carr  stood  waiting,  she  smiled  softly.  She 
could  hear  the  rumble  of  carriages  and  the  panting  of 
automobiles  as  in  a  steady  stream  they  rolled  to  the  front 
entrance.  She  could  catch  glimpses  of  floating  draperies 
of  gauze  and  lace,  the  flash  of  jewels,  and  the  passing  of 
exquisite  colour.     Every  one  was  newly  arrayed  in  her 

354 


PHILIP  AMMON  GIVES  A  BALL  355 

honour  in  the  loveliest  clothing,  and  the  most  expensive 
jewels  they  could  command.  As  she  thought  of  it  she 
lifted  her  head  a  trifle  higher  and  her  eyes  flashed  proudly. 

She  was  robed  in  a  French  creation  suggested  and 
designed  by  Philip.  He  had  said  to  her,  "  I  know  a  com- 
petent judge  who  says  the  distinctive  feature  of  June  is 
her  exquisite  big  night  moths.  I  want  you  to  be  the  very 
essence  of  June  that  night,  as  you  will  be  the  embodiment 
of  love.  Be  a  moth.  The  most  beautiful  of  them  is 
either  the  pale  green  Luna  or  the  Yellow  Imperialis.  Be 
my  moon  lady,  or  my  gold  Empress. " 

He  took  her  to  the  museum  and  showed  her  the  moths. 
She  instantly  decided  on  the  yellow.  Secretly  because 
she  knew  the  shades  would  make  her  more  startlingly 
beautiful  than  any  other  colour.  To  him  she  said,  "A 
moon  lady  seems  so  far  away  and  cold.  I  would  be  of 
earth  and  very  near  on  that  night.  I  choose  the  Em- 
press." 

So  she  matched  the  colours  exactly,  wrote  out  the  idea 
and  forwarded  the  order  to  Paquin.  To-night,  when 
Philip  Ammon  came  for  her,  he  stood  speechless  for  a 
minute  and  then  silently  kissed  her  hands. 

For  she  stood  tall,  lithe,  of  grace  inborn,  her  dark  waving 
hair  high  piled  and  crossed  by  gold  bands  studded  with  ame- 
thyst and  at  one  side  an  enamelled  lavender  orchid  rimmed 
with  diamonds,  which  flashed  and  sparkled.  The  soft 
yellow  robe  of  lightest  weight  velvet  fitted  her  form  per- 
fectly, while  from  each  shoulder  fell  a  great  velvet  wing 
lined  with  lavender,  and  flecked  with  embroidery  of  that 


356  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

colour  in  imitation  of  the  moth.  Around  her  throat  was 
a  wonderful  necklace  and  on  her  arms  were  bracelets  of 
gold  set  with  amethyst  and  rimmed  with  diamonds. 
Philip  had  said  that  her  gloves,  fan,  and  slippers  must  be 
lavender,  because  the  feet  of  the  moth  were  that  colour. 
These  accessories  had  been  made  to  order  and  embroidered 
with  gold.  It  had  been  arranged  that  her  mother,  Philip's, 
and  a  few  best  friends  should  receive  his  guests.  She  was 
to  appear  when  she  led  the  grand  march  with  Philip 
Ammon.  Miss  Carr  was  as  positive  that  she  would  be 
the  most  beautiful  and  most  exquisitely  gowned  woman 
present  as  she  was  of  life.  In  her  heart  she  thought  of 
herself  as  "Tmperialis  Regalis,"  as  the  Yellow  Empress. 
In  a  few  moments  she  would  stun  her  world  into  feeling  it 
as  Philip  Ammon  had  done,  for  she  had  taken  pains  that 
the  history  of  her  costume  should  be  whispered  to  a  few 
who  would  give  it  circulation.  She  lifted  her  head  proudly 
and  waited,  for  was  not  Philip  planning  something 
unusual  and  unsurpassed  in  her  honour?  Then  she 
smiled. 

But  in  all  the  fragmentary  thoughts  crossing  her  brain 
the  one  that  never  came  was  that  of  Philip  Ammon  as  the 
Emperor.  Philip  the  king  of  her  heart,  and  at  least  her 
equal  in  all  things.  She  was  the  Empress  —  yes,  but 
Philip  was  a  mere  man,  to  devise  entertainments,  to  pro- 
vide luxuries,  to  humour  whims,  to  kiss  hands! 

"Ah,  my  luck!"  cried  a  voice  behind  her. 

Edith  Carr  turned  and  smiled  exquisitely. 

fI  thought  you  were  on  the  ocean,"  she  said. 


PHILIP  AMMON  GIVES  A  BALL  357 

"I  only  reached  the  dock,"  replied  the  man,  "when 
I  had  a  letter  that  recalled  me  by  the  first  limited. " 

"Oh!     Important  business?" 

"The  only  business  of  any  importance  in  all  the  world 
to  me.  I'm  triumphant  that  I  came.  Edith,  you  are  the 
most  superb  woman  in  every  respect  that  I  have  ever 
seen.     One  glimpse  is  worth  the  whole  journey. " 

"You  like  my  dress?"  she  moved  toward  him  and 
turned,  lifting  her  arms.  "Do  you  know  what  it  is 
intended  to  represent?" 

"Yes,  Polly  Ammon  told  me.  I  knew  when  I  heard 
about  it  how  you  would  look,  so  I  started  a  sleuth  hunt, 
to  get  the  first  peep.  Edith,  I  can  become  intoxicated  just 
with  looking  at  you  to-night. " 

He  half-closed  his  eyes  and  smilingly  stared  straight 
at  her.  He  was  taller  than  she,  a  lean  man,  with  close- 
cropped  light  hair,  steel  gray  eyes,  a  square  chin  and 
"man  of  the  world"  written  all  over  him. 

Edith  Carr  flushed.  "I  thought  you  realized  when 
you  went  away  that  you  were  to  stop  that,  Hart  Hen- 
derson," she  cried. 

"  I  did,  but  this  letter  of  which  I  tell  you  called  me  back 
to  start  it  all  over  again. " 

She  came  a  step  closer.  "Who  wrote  that  letter,  and 
what  did  it  contain  concerning  me?"  she  demanded. 

"One  of  your  most  intimate  chums  wrote  it.  It  con- 
tained the  hazard  that  possibly  I  had  given  up  too  soon. 
It  said  that  in  a  fit  of  petulance  you  had  broken  your 
engagement  with  Ammon  twice  this  winter,  and  he  had 


358  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

come  back  because  he  knew  you  did  not  really  mean  it. 
I  thought  hard  there  on  the  dock  when  I  read  that,  and 
my  boat  sailed  without  me.  I  argued  that  anything  so 
weak  as  an  engagement  twice  broken  and  patched  up 
again  was  a  mighty  frail  affair  indeed,  and  likely  to  smash 
completely  at  any  time,  so  I  came  on  the  run.  I  said  once 
I  would  not  see  you  marry  any  other  man.  Because  I 
could  not  bear  it,  I  planned  to  go  into  exile  of  any  sort  to 
escape  that.  I  have  changed  my  mind.  I  have  come 
back  to  haunt  you  until  the  ceremony  is  over.  Then  I 
go,  not  before.     I  was  insane!" 

The  girl  laughed  merrily.  "Not  half  so  insane  as  you 
are  now,  Hart!"  she  cried  gaily.  "You  know  that  Philip 
Ammon  has  been  devoted  to  me  all  my  life.  Well,  now 
I'll  tell  you  something  else,  because  this  looks  serious  for 
you.  I  love  him  with  all  my  heart.  Not  while  he  lives 
shall  he  know  it,  and  I  will  laugh  at  him  if  you  tell  him, 
but  the  fact  remains :  I  intend  to  marry  him,  but  no  doubt 
I  shall  tease  him  constantly.  It's  good  for  a  man  to  be 
uncertain.  If  you  could  see  Amnion's  face  at  the  quar- 
terly return  of  his  ring,  you  would  understand  the  fun  of 
it.     You  had  better  have  taken  your  boat. " 

"Possibly,"  said  Henderson  calmly.  "But  you  are 
the  only  woman  in  the  world  for  me,  and  while  you  are 
free,  as  I  now  see  my  light,  I  stay  by  you.  You  know 
the  old  adage. " 

"But  I'm  not  'free'!"  cried  Edith  Carr.  "I'm  just 
telling  you  I  am  not.  This  night  is  my  public  acknowl- 
edgment that  Phil  and  I  are  promised,  as  our  world  has 


PHILIP  AMMON  GIVES  A  BALL         359 

surmised  since  we  were  children.  That  promise  is  an 
actual  fact,  because  of  what  I  just  have  told  you.  My 
little  fits  of  temper  don't  count  with  Phil.  He's  been 
raised  on  them.  In  fact,  I  often  invent  one  in  a  perfect 
calm  to  see  him  perform.  He  is  the  most  amusing  spec- 
tacle. But,  please,  please,  do  understand  that  I  love  him, 
and  always  will,  and  that  we  will  be  married. " 

"Just  the  same,  I'll  wait  and  see  it  an  accomplished 
fact,"  said  Henderson.  "And,  Edith,  because  I  love  you, 
with  the  sort  of  love  it  is  worth  a  woman's  while  to  inspire, 
I  want  your  happiness  before  my  own.  So  I  am  going  to 
say  this  to  you,  for  I  never  dreamed  you  were  capable 
of  the  feeling  you  have  displayed  for  Phil.  If  you  do  love 
him,  and  have  loved  him  always,  a  disappointment  would 
cut  you  deeper  than  you  know.  Go  careful  from  now  on! 
Don't  strain  that  patched  engagement  of  yours  any 
farther.  I've  known  Philip  all  my  life.  I've  known  him 
through  boyhood,  in  college,  and  since.  All  men  respect 
him.  Where  the  rest  of  us  confess  our  sins,  he  stands 
clean.  You  can  go  to  his  arms  with  nothing  to  forgive. 
Mark  this  thing!  I  have  heard  him  say,  'Edith  is  my 
slogan,'  and  I  have  seen  him  march  home  strong  in  the 
strength  of  his  love  for  you,  in  the  face  of  temptations 
before  which  every  other  man  of  us  fell.  Before  the  gods! 
that  ought  to  be  worth  something  to  a  girl,  if  she  really 
is  the  delicate,  sensitive,  refined  thing  she  would  have  man 
believe.  It  would  take  a  woman  with  the  organism  of  an 
ostrich  to  endure  some  of  the  men  here  to-night,  if  she 
knew  them  as  I  do;  but  Phil  is  sound  to  the  core.     So  this 


360  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

is  what  I  would  say  to  you.  First,  your  instincts  are  right 
in  loving  him,  why  not  let  him  feel  it  in  the  ways  a  woman 
knows?  Second,  don't  break  your  engagement  again. 
As  men  know  the  man,  any  of  us  would  be  afraid  to  the 
soul.  He  loves  you,  yes!  He  is  long-suffering  for  you, 
yes!  But  men  know  he  has  a  limit.  When  the  limit  is 
reached,  he  will  stand  fast,  and  all  the  powers  can't  move 
him.  You  don't  seem  to  think  it,  but  you  can  go  too 
far!" 

"Is  that  all?"  laughed  Edith  Carr  sarcastically. 

"No,  there  is  one  thing  more,"  said  Henderson. 
"Here  or  hereafter,  now  and  so  long  as  I  breathe,  I  am 
your  slave.  You  can  do  anything  you  choose  and  know 
that  I  will  kneel  before  you  again.  So  carry  this  in  the 
depths  of  your  heart;  now  or  at  any  time,  in  any  place 
or  condition,  merely  lift  your  hand,  and  I  will  come. 
Anything  you  want  of  me,  that  thing  will  I  do.  I  am 
going  to  wait;  if  you  need  me,  it  is  not  necessary  to  speak; 
only  give  me  the  faintest  sign.  All  your  life  I  will  be  some- 
where near  you  waiting  for  it. " 

"Idjit!  You  rave!"  laughed  Edith  Carr.  "How  you 
would  frighten  me!  What  a  bugbear  you  would  raise! 
Be  sensible  and  go  find  what  keeps  Phil.  I  was  waiting 
patiently,  but  my  patience  is  going.  I  won't  look  nearly 
so  well  as  I  do  now  when  it  is  gone. 

At  that  instant  Philip  Ammon  entered.  He  was  in 
full  evening  dress  and  exceptionally  handsome.  "Every- 
thing is  ready,"  he  said;  "they  are  waiting  for  us  to  lead 
the  march.     It  is  formed. " 


PHILIP  AMMON  GIVES  A  BALL  361 

Edith  Carr  smiled  entrancingly.  "Do  you  think  I  am 
ready?" 

Philip  looked  wnat  he  thought,  and  offered  his  arm. 
Edith  Carr  nodded  carelessly  to  Henderson,  and  moved 
away.  Servants  parted  the  curtains  and  the  Yellow  Empress 
bowing  right  and  left  swept  the  length  of  the  ballroom 
and  took  her  place  at  the  head  of  the  formed  procession. 
The  great  open  dancing  pavilion  was  draped  with  yellow 
silk  caught  up  with  lilac  flowers.  Every  corner  was  filled 
with  bloom  of  those  colours.  The  music  was  played  by 
harpers  dressed  in  yellow  and  violet,  and  the  ball  opened. 

The  midnight  supper  was  served  with  the  same  colours 
and  the  last  half  of  the  programme  was  well  under  way. 
Never  had  girl  been  more  complimented  and  petted  in 
the  same  length  of  time  than  Edith  Carr.  Every  minute 
she  seemed  to  grow  more  worthy  of  praise.  A  partners* 
dance  was  called  and  the  floor  was  filled  with  couples 
waiting  for  the  music.  Ammon  stood  whispering  delight- 
ful things  to  Edith  facing  him.  From  out  of  the  night 
in  at  the  wide  front  entrance  to  the  pavilion  there  swept 
in  slow  wavering  flight  a  great  yellow  moth  and  fluttered 
toward  the  centre  cluster  of  glaring  electric  lights.  Philip 
Ammon  and  Edith  Carr  saw  it  at  the  same  instant. 

"Why,  isn't  that ?."  she  began  excitedly. 

"It's  a  Yellow  Emperor!  This  is  fate!"  cried  Ammon. 
"The  last  one  Elnora  needs  for  her  collection.  I  must 
have  it!     Excuse  me!" 

He  ran  toward  the  light.  "Hats!  Handkerchiefs! 
Fans!      Anything!"  he    panted.     "Every    one  hold   up 


362  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

something  and  stop  that!  It's  a  moth;  I've  got  to  catch 
it!" 

"He  wants  it  for  Edith!"  ran  in  a  murmur  around  the 
hall.  The  girl's  face  flushed,  while  she  bit  her  lip  in 
vexation. 

Instantly  every  one  began  holding  up  something  to 
keep  the  moth  from  flying  back  into  the  night.  One  fan 
held  straight  before  it  served,  and  the  moth  gently  settled 
on  it. 

"Hold  steady!"  cried  Ammon.  "Don't  move  for 
your  life!"  He  rushed  toward  the  moth,  made  a!  quick 
sweep  and  held  it  up  between  his  fingers.  "All  right!" 
he  called.     "Thanks,  every  one!     Excuse  me  a  minute." 

He  ran  to  the  office. 

"An  ounce  of  gasolene,  quick!"  he  ordered.  "A  cigar 
box,  a  cork,  and  the  glue  bottle. " 

He  poured  some  glue  into  the  bottom  of  the  box,  set  the 
cork  in  it  firmly,  dashed  the  gasolene  over  the  moth 
repeatedly,  pinned  it  to  the  cork,  poured  the  remainder  of 
the  liquid  over  it,  closed  the  box,  and  fastened  it.  Then 
he  laid  a  bill  on  the  counter. 

"Pack  that  box  with  cork  around  it,  in  one  twice  its 
size,  tie  securely  and  express  to  this  address  at  once. " 

He  scribbled  on  a  sheet  of  paper  and  shoved  it  over. 

"On  your  honour,  will  you  do  that  faithfully  as  I  say? 
he  asked  the  clerk. 

"Certainly,"  was  the  reply. 

"Then  keep  the  change,"  called  Ammon  as  he  ran  back 
to  the  pavilion. 


PHILIP  AMMON  GIVES  A  BALL  363 

Edith  Carr  stood  where  he  left  her,  thinking  rapidly. 
She  heard  the  murmur  that  went  up  when  Philip  started 
to  capture  the  exquisite  golden  creature  she  was  imper- 
sonating. She  saw  the  flash  of  surprise  that  went  over 
unrestrained  faces  when  he  ran  from  the  room,  without 
even  showing  it  to  her.  "The  last  one  Elnora  needs," 
rang  in  her  ears.  He  had  told  her  that  he  helped  collect 
moths  the  previous  summer,  but  she  had  understood  that 
the  Bird  Woman,  with  whose  work  Miss  Carr  was 
familiar,  wanted  them  to  put  in  a  book. 

He  had  spoken  of  a  country  girl  he  had  met  who  played 
the  violin  wonderfully,  and  at  times  he  had  showed  a 
disposition  to  exalt  her  as  a  standard  of  womanhood. 
Miss  Carr  had  ignored  what  he  said,  and  talked  of  some- 
thing else.  But  that  girl's  name  had  been  Elnora.  It 
was  she  who  was  collecting  moths!  No  doubt  she  was 
the  competent  judge  who  was  responsible  for  the  yellow 
costume  Philip  had  devised.  Had  Edith  Carr  been  in 
her  room,  she  would  have  torn  off  the  dress  at  the  thought. 

Being  in  a  circle  of  her  best  friends,  which  to  her  meant 
her  keenest  rivals  and  harshest  critics,  she  grew  rigid  with 
anger.  Her  breath  hurt  her  paining  chest.  No  one 
thought  to  speak  to  the  musicians  and,  seeing  the  floor 
filled,  they  began  the  waltz.  Only  half  the  guests  could 
see  what  had  happened,  and  at  once  the  others  formed  and 
commenced  to  dance.  Laughing  couples  came  sweeping 
past  her. 

Edith  Carr  grew  very  white  as  she  stood  alone.  Her 
lips  turned  pale,  while  her  dark  eyes  flamed  with  anger. 


i  364  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

She  stood  perfectly  still  where  Philip  had  left  her,  and  the 
approaching  men  guided  their  partners  around  her,  while 
the  girls,  looking  back,  could  be  seen  making  exclamations 
of  surprise. 

The  idolized  only  daughter  of  the  Carr  family  hoped 
that  she  would  drop  dead  from  mortification,  but  nothing 
happened.  She  was  too  perverse  to  step  aside  laughingly 
and  say  that  she  was  waiting  for  Philip.  Then  came  Tom 
Levering  dancing  with  Polly  Ammon.  Being  in  the  scales 
with  the  Ammon  family,  Tom  scented  trouble  from 
afar,  so  he  whispered  to  Polly,  "Edith  is  standing  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor,  and  she's  awful  mad  about  something." 

"That  won't  hurt  her,"  laughed  Polly.  "It's  an  old 
pose  of  hers.  She  knows  she  looks  superb  when  she  is 
angry,  so  she  keeps  herself  furious  half  the  time  on  pur- 
pose. " 

"  She  looks  like  the  mischief! "  answered  Tom.  "Hadn't 
we  better  steer  over  and  wait  with  her?  She's  the  ugliest 
sight  I  ever  saw!" 

"Why,  Tom!"  cried  Polly.     "Stop,  quickly!" 

They  hurried  to  Edith. 

"Come,  dear,"  said  Polly.  "We  are  going  to  wait 
with  you  until  Phil  gets  back.  Let's  go  for  a  drink.  I 
am  so  thirsty!" 

"Yes,  do!"  begged  Tom,  offering  his  arm.  "Let's 
get  out  of  here  until  Phil  comes. " 

There  was  an  opportunity  to  laugh  and  walk  away,  but 
Edith  Carr  would  not  accept  it.  Anger  only  seemed  to 
flame  higher. 


PHILIP  AMMON  GIVES  A  BALL  365 

"My  betrothed  left  me  here,"  she  said.  "Here  I  shall 
remain  until  he  returns  for  me,  and  then  —  he  will  be  my 
betrothed  no  longer!" 

Polly  grasped  Edith's  arm. 

"Oh,  Edith!"  she  implored.  "Don't  make  a  scene 
here,  and  to-night.  Edith,  this  has  been  the  loveliest 
dance  ever  given  at  the  club  house.  Every  one  is  saying 
so.  Edith!  Darling,  do  come!  Phil  will  be  back  in  a 
second.  He  can  explain!  It's  only  a  breath  since  I  saw 
him  go  out.     I  thought  he  had  returned. " 

As  Polly  panted  these  disjointed  ejaculations,  Tom 
Levering  began  to  grow  angry  on  her  account. 

"He  has  been  gone  just  long  enough  to  show  every  one 
of  his  guests  that  he  will  leave  me  standing  alone,  like  a 
neglected  fool,  for  any  passing  whim  of  his.  Explain! 
His  explanation  would  sound  well!  Do  you  know  for 
whom  he  caught  that  moth  ?  It  is  being  sent  to  a  girl  he 
flirted  with  all  last  summer.  It  has  just  occurred  to  me 
that  the  dress  I  am  wearing  is  her  suggestion.  Let  him 
try  to  explain!" 

Speech  unloosed  the  fountain.  She  stripped  off  her 
gloves  to  free  her  hands.  At  that  instant  the  dancers 
parted  to  admit  Philip.  Instinctively  they  stopped  as 
they  approached  and  with  wondering  faces  walled  in  Edith 
and  Philip,  Polly  and  Tom. 

"Mighty  good  of  you  to  wait!"  cried  Ammon,  his  face 
beaming  with  delight  over  his  success  in  capturing  the 
Yellow  Emperor.  "I  thought  when  I  heard  the  music 
you  were  going  on. " 


366  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"How  did  you  think  I  was  going  on?"  demanded 
Edith  Can  in  frigid  tones. 

"I  thought  you  would  step  aside  and  wait  a  few  sec- 
onds for  me,  or  dance  with  Henderson.  It  was  most 
important  to  have  that  moth.  It  just  completes  a 
valuable  collection  for  a  person  who  needs  the  money. 
Come!" 

He  held  out  his  arms. 

"I  'step  aside'  for  no  one!"  stormed  Edith  Carr. 
"I  await  no  other  girl's  pleasure!  You  may  'complete 
the  collection'  with  that!" 

She  drew  her  engagement  ring  from  her  finger  and 
reached  to  place  it  in  one  of  Philip's  outstretched  hands. 
Ammon  saw  and  drew  back.  Instantly  Edith  dropped 
the  ring.  As  it  fell,  almost  instinctively  Philip  caught 
it  in  air.  With  amazed  face  he  looked  closely  at  Edith , 
Carr.  Her  distorted  features  were  scarcely  recognizable. 
He  held  the  ring  toward  her. 

"Edith,  for  the  love  of  mercy,  wait  until  I  can  explain," 
he  begged.  "Put  on  your  ring  and  let  me  tell  you  how 
it  is." 

"I  know  perfectly  'how  it  is,'"  she  answered.  "I 
never  will  wear  that  ring  again. " 

"You  won't  even  hear  what  I  have  to  say?  You 
won't  take  back  your  ring?"  he  cried. 

"Never!     Your  conduct  is  infamous!" 

"Come  to  think  of  it,"  said  Ammon  deliberately,  "it 
is  infamous  to  cut  a  girl,  who  has  danced  all  her  life,  out 
of  a  few  measures  of  a  waltz.     As  for  asking  forgiveness 


PHILIP  AMMON  GIVES  A  BALL  367 

for  so  black  a  sin  as  picking  up  a  moth,  and  starting  it  to 
a  friend  who  lives  by  collecting  them,  I  don't  see  how  I 
could!  I  have  not  been  gone  three  minutes  by  the  clock, 
Edith.  Put  on  your  ring  and  finish  the  dance  like  a 
dear  girl." 

He  thrust  the  glittering  ruby  into  her  fingers  and 
again  held  out  his  arms.  She  dropped  the  ring,  and  it 
rolled  some  distance  from  them.  Henderson  followed  its 
shining  course,  and  caught  it  before  it  was  lost. 

"You  really  mean  it?"  demanded  Ammon  in  a  voice 
as  cold  as  hers  ever  had  been. 

"You  know  I  mean  it!"  cried  Edith  Carr. 

"I  accept  your  decision  in  the  presence  of  these  wit- 
nesses, "  said  Philip  Ammon. 

"Where  is  my  father?"  he  asked  of  those  around  them. 
The  elder  Ammon  with  a  distressed  face  hurried  to  him. 
"Father,  take  my  place,"  said  Philip.  "Excuse  me  to 
my  guests.  Ask  all  my  friends  to  forgive  me.  I  am 
going  out  for  a  time. " 

He  turned  and  walked  from  the  pavilion.  As  he  went 
Hart  Henderson  rushed  to  Edith  Carr  and  forced  the 
ring  into  her  fingers.  "Edith,  quick!  Come,  quick!" 
he  implored.  "There's  just  time  to  catch  him.  If  you 
let  him  go  that  way,  he  never  will  return  in  this  world. 
Remember  what  I  told  you." 

"Great  prophet!  aren't  you,  Hart?"  she  sneered. 
"Who  wants  him  to  return?  If  that  ring  is  thrust  upon 
me  again  I  shall  fling  it  into  the  lake.  Signal  the  musi- 
cians to  begin,  and  take  this  dance  with  me. " 


368  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Henderson  put  the  ring  into  his  pocket,  and  began  the 
dance.  He  could  feel  the  muscular  spasms  of  the  girl 
in  his  arms,  her  face  was  cold  and  hard,  but  her  breath 
burned  with  the  scorch  of  fever.  She  finished  the  dance 
and  all  others,  taking  Phil's  numbers  with  Henderson, 
who  had  arrived  too  late  to  arrange  a  programme.  She 
left  with  the  others,  merely  inclining  her  head  as  she 
passed  Amnion's  father  taking  his  place,  and  entered  the 
big  touring  car  for  which  Henderson  had  telephoned. 

She  sank  limply  into  a  seat  and  moaned  softly. 

"Shall  I  drive  a  while  in  the  night  air?"  asked  Hen- 
derson. 

She  nodded.     Henderson  instructed  the  chauffeur. 

She  raised  her  head  in  a  few  seconds.  "Hart,  I'm  going 
to  pieces,"  she  said.  "Won't  you  put  your  arm  around 
me  a  little  while?" 

Henderson  gathered  her  into  his  arms  and  her  head 
fell  on  his  shoulder.     "Closer!"  she  cried. 

Henderson  gripped  her  with  the  strength  of  a  prac- 
tised athlete,  and  held  her  until  his  arms  were  numb,  but 
lie  did  not  know  it.  The  tricks  of  fate  are  cruel  enough, 
but  there  scarcely  could  have  been  a  worse  one  than  that. 
To  care  for  a  woman  as  he  loved  Edith  Carr  and  have 
her  given  into  his  arms  because  she  was  so  numb  with 
misery  over  her  trouble  with  another  man  that  she  did 
not  know  or  care  what  she  did.  Dawn  was  streaking 
the  east  when  he  spoke  to  her. 

"Edith,  it  is  growing  light." 

"Take  me  home,"  she  said. 


PHILIP  AMMON  GIVES  A  BALL  369 

Henderson  helped  her  up  the  steps  and  rang  the  bell. 
When  the  door  was  opened  he  went  inside  and  guided 
her  to  her  room. 

"Miss  Carr  is  ill,"  he  said  to  the  footman.  "Rouse 
her  maid  instantly,  and  have  her  prepare  something  hot 
as  quickly  as  possible." 

''Edith,"  he  cried,  "just  a  word.  I  have  been  think- 
ing. It  isn't  too  late  yet.  Take  your  ring  and  put  it  on. 
I  will  go  find  Phil  at  once  and  tell  him  you  have,  that  you 
are  expecting  him,  and  he  will  come. " 

"Think  what  he  said!"  she  cried.  "He  accepted  my 
decision  as  final,  'in  the  presence  of  witnesses,'  as  if  it 
were  court.  He  can  return  it  to  me,  if  I  ever  wear  it 
again." 

"You  think  that  now,  but  in  a  few  days  you  will  find 
that  you  feel  very  differently.  Living  a  life  of  heartache 
is  no  joke,  and  no  job  for  a  woman.  Put  on  your  ring 
and  send  me  to  tell  him  to  come. " 

"No." 

"Edith,  there  was  not  a  soul  who  saw  that  but  sym- 
pathized with  Phil.  It  was  ridiculous  for  you  to  get  so 
angry  over  a  thing  which  was  never  intended  for  the 
slightest  offence,  and  by  no  logical  reasoning  could  have 
been  so  considered. 

"Do  you  think  that?"  she  demanded. 

"I  do!"  said  Henderson.  "If  you  had  laughed  and 
stepped  aside  an  instant,  or  laughed  and  stayed  where 
you  were,  Phil  would  have  been  back;  or,  if  he  needed 
punishment  in  your  eyes,  to  have  found  me  having  one  of 


37o  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

his  dances  would  have  been  enough.  I  was  waiting.  You 
could  have  called  me  with  one  look.  But  to  publicly  do 
and  say  what  you  did,  my  lady  —  I  know  Phil,  and  I 
know  you  went  too  far.  Put  on  that  ring,  and  send  him 
word  you  are  sorry,  before  it  is  too  late." 

"I  will  not!     He  shall  come  to  me." 

"Then  God  help  you!"  said  Henderson,  "for  you  are 
plunging  into  misery  whose  depth  you  do  not  dream. 
Edith,  I  beg  of  you ! " 

She  swayed  where  she  stood.  Her  maid  opened  the 
door  and  caught  her.  Henderson  went  down  the  hall 
and  out  to  his  car. 


CHAPTER  XX 

Wherein   the    Elder   Ammon    Offers   Advice,    and 
Edith  Carr  Experiences  Regrets 

Philip  Ammon  walked  from  among  his  friends  a 
humiliated  and  a  wounded  man.  Never  before  had  Edith 
Carr  appeared  quite  so  beautiful.  All  evening  she  had 
treated  him  with  unusual  consideration.  Never  had  he 
loved  her  so  deeply.  Then  in  a  few  seconds  everything 
was  different.  Seeing  the  change  in  her  face,  and  hearing 
her  meaningless  accusations,  killed  something  in  his  heart. 
Warmth  went  out  and  a  cold  weight  took  its  place.  But 
even  after  that  he  had  offered  the  ring  to  her  again,  and 
asked  her  before  others  to  reconsider.  The  answer  had 
been  further  insult. 

He  walked  straight  ahead,  paying  no  heed  to  where  he 
went.  He  had  traversed  many  miles  when  he  became 
aware  that  his  feet  had  chosen  familiar  streets.  He  was 
passing  his  home.  Dawn  was  near,  but  the  first  floor 
was  lighted.  He  staggered  up  the  steps  and  was  in- 
stantly admitted.  The  library  door  stood  open,  while 
his  father  sat  with  a  book  pretending  to  read.  At 
Philip's  entrance  the  father  scarcely  glanced  up. 

"Come  on!"  he  called.     "I  have  just  told  Banks  to 

37i 


372  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

bring  me  a  cup  of  coffee  before  I  turn  in.  Have  one 
with  me!" 

Philip  sat  by  the  table  and  leaned  his  head  on  his 
hands,  but  he  drank  a  cup  of  steaming  coffee  and  felt 
better. 

"Father,"  he  said,  "father,  may  I  talk  with  you  a  little 
while?" 

"Of  course,"  answered  Mr.  Ammon.  "I  am  not  at  all 
tired.  I  think  I  must  have  been  waiting  in  the  hope  that 
you  would  come.  I  want  no  one's  version  of  this  but 
yours.     Tell  me  the  straight  of  the  thing,  Phil." 

Philip  told  all  he  knew,  while  his  father  sat  in  deep 
thought. 

"On  my  life  I  can't  see  any  occasion  for  such  a  display 
of  temper,  Phil.  It  passed  all  bounds  of  reason  and  breed- 
ing.    Can't  you  think  of  anything  more?" 

"I  cannot!" 

"Polly  says  every  one  expected  you  to  carry  the  moth 
you  caught  to  Edith.     Why  didn't  you?" 

"She  screams  if  a  thing  of  that  kind  comes  near  her. 
She  never  has  taken  the  slightest  interest  in  them.  I  was 
in  a  big  hurry.  I  didn't  want  to  miss  one  minute  of  my 
dance  with  her.  The  moth  was  not  so  uncommon,  but 
by  a  combination  of  bad  luck  it  had  become  the  rarest  in 
America  for  a  friend  of  mine,  who  is  making  a  collection 
to  pay  college  expenses.  For  an  instant  last  June  the 
series  was  completed;  when  a  woman's  uncontrolled  tem- 
per ruined  this  specimen  and  the  search  for  it  began  over. 
A  few  days  later  a  pair  was  secured,  and  again  the  money 


THE  ELDER  AMMON  OFFERS  ADVICE     373 

was  in  sight  for  several  hours.  Then  an  accident  wrecked 
one  fourth  of  the  collection.  I  helped  replace  those  last 
June,  all  but  this  Yellow  Emperor  which  we  could  not 
secure,  and  we  haven't  been  able  to  find,  buy  or  trade  for 
one  since.  So  my  friend  was  compelled  to  teach  this  past 
winter  instead  of  going  to  college.  When  that  moth  came 
flying  in  there  to-night,  it  seemed  to  me  like  fate.  All  I 
thought  of  was,  that  to  secure  it  would  complete  the  col- 
lection and  get  the  money.  So  I  caught  the  Emperor  and 
started  it  to  Elnora.  I  declare  to  you  that  I  was  not  out 
of  the  pavilion  over  three  minutes  at  a  liberal  estimate. 
If  I  only  had  thought  to  speak  to  the  orchestra!  I  was 
sure  I  would  be  back  before  enough  couples  gathered  and 
formed  for  the  dance." 

The  eyes  of  the   elder  Ammon  were  very  bright. 

"The  friend  for  whom  you  wanted  the  moth  is  a  girl?" 
he  asked  indifTerently,  as  he  ran  the  book  leaves  through 
his  fingers. 

"The  girl  of  whom  I  wrote  you  last  summer,  and  told 
you  about  in  the  fall.  I  helped  her  all  the  time  I  was 
away." 

"Did  Edith  know  of  her?" 

"I  tried  many  times  to  tell  her,  to  interest  her,  but  she 
was  so  indifferent  that  it  was  insulting.  She  would  not 
hear  me." 

"We  are  neither  one  in  any  condition  to  sleep.  Why 
don't  you  begin  at  the  first  and  tell  me  about  this  girl? 
To  think  of  other  matters  for  a  time  may  clear  our  vision 
for  a  sane  solution  of  this.     Who  is  she,  just  what  is  she 


374  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

doing,  and  what  is  she  like?  You  know  I  was  reared 
among  those  Limberlost  people,  I  can  understand  readily. 
What  is  her  name  and  where  does  she  live?" 

Philip  gave  a  man's  version  of  the  previous  summer, 
while  his  father  played  with  the  book  industriously. 

"You  are  very  sure  as  to  her  refinement  and  educa- 
tion?" he  asked. 

"In  almost  two  months'  daily  association,  could  a  man 
be  mistaken?  She  can  far  and  away  beat  Polly,  Edith, 
or  any  girl  of  our  set  on  any  common,  high  school,  or  sup- 
plementary branch,  and  you  know  high  schools  have 
French,  German,  and  physics  now.  Besides,  she  is  a 
graduate  of  two  other  institutions.  All  her  life  she  has 
been  in  the  School  of  Hard  Knocks.  She  has  the  biggest, 
tenderest,  most  human  heart  I  ever  knew  in  a  girl.  She 
has  known  life  in  its  most  cruel  phases,  and  instead  of 
hardening  her,  it  has  set  her  trying  to  save  other  people 
suffering.  Then  this  nature  position  of  which  I  told  you; 
she  graduated  in  the  School  of  the  Woods,  before  she  got 
that.  The  Bird  Woman,  whose  work  you  know,  helped 
her  there.  Elnora  knows  more  interesting  things  in  a 
minute  than  any  other  girl  I  ever  met  knew  in  an  hour, 
provided  you  are  a  person  who  cares  to  understand  plant 
and  animal  life." 

The  book  leaves  slid  rapidly  through  his  fingers  as  the 
father  drawled,  "What  sort  of  looking  girl  is  she?" 

"Tall  as  Edith,  a  little  heavier,  pink,  even  complexion, 
wide  open  blue-gray  eyes  with  heavy  black  brows,  and 
lashes  so  long  they  touch  her  cheeks.     She  has  a  rope  of 


THE  ELDER  AMMON  OFFERS  ADVICE     375 

waving,  shining  hair  that  makes  a  real  crown  on  her  head, 
and  it  appears  almost  red  in  the  light.  She  is  as  hand- 
some as  any  fair  woman  I  ever  saw,  but  she  doesn't 
know  it.  Every  time  any  one  pays  her  a  compliment, 
her  mother,  who  is  a  caution,  discovers  that,  for  some 
reason,  the  girl  is  a  fright,  so  she  has  no  appreciation  of 
her  looks." 

"And  you  were  in  daily  association  two  months  with  a 
girl  like  that!     How  about  it,  Phil?" 

"If  you  mean,  did  I  trifle  with  her,  no  I"  cried  Philip 
hotly.  "I  told  her  the  second  time  I  met  her  all  about 
Edith.  Almost  every  day  I  wrote  to  Edith  in  her  pres- 
ence. Elnora  gathered  violets  and  made  a  fancy  basket 
to  put  them  in  for  Edith's  birthday.  I  started  to  err  in 
too  open  admiration  for  Elnora,  but  her  mother  brought 
me  up  with  a  whirl  I  never  forgot.  Fifty  times  a  day  in 
the  swamps  and  forests  Elnora  made  a  perfect  picture, 
but  I  neither  looked  nor  said  anything.  I  never  met  any 
girl  so  downright  noble  in  bearing  and  actions.  I  never 
hated  anything  as  I  hated  leaving  her,  for  we  were  dear 
friends,  like  two  wholly  congenial  men.  Her  mother  was 
almost  always  with  us.  She  knew  how  much  I  admired 
Elnora,  but  so  long  as  I  concealed  it  from  the  girl  the 
mother  did  not  care." 

"Yet  you  left  such  a  girl  and  came  back  whole-hearted 
to  Edith  Carr!" 

"Surely!  You  know  how  it  has  been  with  me  about 
Edith  all  my  life." 

"Yet  the  girl  you  picture  is  far  her  superior  to  an  un- 


376  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

prejudiced  person,  when  thinking  what  a    man  would 
require  in  a  wife  to  be  happy." 

"I  never  have  thought  what  I  would  'require*  to  be 
happy!  I  only  thought  whether  I  could  make  Edith 
happy.  I  have  been  an  idiot!  What  I've  borne  you'll 
never  know!  To-night  is  only  one  of  many  outbursts  like 
that  in  varying  and  lesser  degress." 

"Phil,  I  love  you,  when  you  say  you  have  thought 
only  of  Edith!  I  happen  to  know  that  it  is  true.  You 
are  my  only  son,  and  I  have  had  a  right  to  watch  you 
closely.  I  believe  you  utterly.  Any  one  who  cares  for 
you  as  I  do,  and  has  had  my  years  of  experience  in  this 
world  over  yours,  knows  that  in  some  ways  to-night  would 
be  a  blessed  release,  if  you  could  take  it;  but  you  cannot! 
Go  to  bed  now,  and  get  some  rest.  To-morrow,  go  back 
to  her  and  fix  it  up." 

"You  heard  what  I  said  when  I  left  her!  I  said  it  be- 
cause something  in  my  heart  died  a  minute  before  that, 
and  I  realized  that  it  was  my  love  for  Edith  Carr.  Never 
again  will  I  voluntarily  face  such  a  scene.  If  she  can  act 
like  that  at  a  ball,  before  hundreds,  over  a  thing  of  which 
I  thought  nothing  at  all,  she  would  go  into  actual  phys- 
ical fits  and  spasms  over  some  of  the  household  crises 
I've  seen  the  mater  meet  with  a  smile.  Sir,  it  is  truth 
that  I  have  thought  only  of  her  up  to  the  present.  Now, 
I  will  admit  I  am  thinking  about  myself.  Father,  did 
you  see  her?  Life  is  too  short,  and  it  can  be  too  sweet," 
to  throw  away  in  a  bottle  with  an  unrestrained  woman. 
I  am  no  fighter  —  where  a  girl  is  concerned,  anyway.      I 


THE   ELDER  AMMON  OFFERS  ADVICE   377 

respect  and  love  her  or  I  do  nothing.  Never  again  is 
either  respect  or  love  possible  between  me  and  Edith 
Carr.  Whenever  I  think  of  her  in  the  future,  I  will  see 
her  as  she  was  to-night.  But  I  can't  face  the  crowd  just 
yet.     Could  you  spare  me  a  few  days?" 

"  It  is  only  ten  days  until  you  were  to  go  north  for  the 
summer;  go  now." 

"I  don't  want  to  go  north.  I  don't  want  to  meet 
people  I  know.  There,  the  story  would  precede  me.  I  do 
not  need  pitying  glances  or  rough  condolences.  I  wonder  if 
I  could  not  hide  at  Uncle  Ed's  in  Wisconsin  for  a  while?" 

The  book  closed  suddenly.  The  father  leaned  across 
the  table  and  looked  into  the  son's  eyes. 

"Phil,  are  you  sure  of  what  you  just  have  said?" 

"Quite  sure!" 

"Do  you  think  you  are  in  any  condition  to  decide 
to-night?" 

"Death  cannot  return  to  life,  father.  My  love  for 
Edith  Carr  is  dead.     I  hope  never  to  see  her  again." 

"If  I  thought  you  could  be  certain  so  soon!  But, 
come  to  think  of  it,  you  are  very  like  me  in  many  ways. 
I  am  with  you  in  this.  Public  scenes  and  disgraces  I 
would  not  endure.  It  would  be  over  with  me,  were  I  in 
your  position,  that  I  know." 

"It  is  done  for  all  time,"  said  Philip  Ammon.  "Let 
us  not  speak  of  it  further." 

"Then,  Phil,"  the  father  leaned  closer  and  looked  at 
the  son  tenderly,  "Phil,  why  don't  you  go  to  the  Lim- 
berlost?" 


378  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Father!" 

"Why  not?  No  one  can  comfort  a  hurt  heart  like  a 
tender  woman;  and,  Phil,  have  you  ever  stopped  to  think 
that  you  may  have  a  duty  in  the  Limberlost,  if  you  are 
free!  I  don't  know!  I  only  suggest  it.  But  for  a  coun- 
try schoolgirl,  unaccustomed  to  men,  two  months  with  a 
man  like  you  might  well  awaken  feelings  of  which  you  do 
not  think.  Because  you  were  safeguarded  is  no  sign  the 
girl  was.  She  might  care  to  see  you.  You  can  soon  tell. 
With  you,  she  comes  next  to  Edith,  and  you  have  made 
it  clear  to  me  that  you  appreciate  her  in  many  ways 
above.     So  I  repeat  it,  why  not  go  to  the  Limberlost?" 

A  long  time  Philip  Ammon  sat  in  deep  thought.  At 
last  he  raised  his  head. 

"Well,  why  not!"  he  said.  "Years  could  make  me  no 
surer  than  I  am  now,  and  life  is  short.  Please  ask  Banks 
to  get  me  some  coffee  and  toast,  and  I  will  bathe  and  dress 
so  I  can  take  the  early  train." 

"Go  to  your  bath.  I  will  attend  to  your  packing  and 
everything.  And,  Phil,  if  I  were  you,  I  would  leave  no 
addresses." 

"Not  an  address!"  said  Ammon.     "Not  even  Polly." 

When  the  train  pulled  out,  the  elder  Ammon  went  home 
to  find  Hart  Henderson  waiting. 

"Where  is  Phil?"  he  demanded. 

"He  did  not  feel  like  facing  his  friends  at  present,  and 
I  am  just  back  from  driving  him  to  the  station.  He  said 
he  might  go  to  Siam  or  Patagonia.  He  would  leave  no 
address." 


THE   ELDER  AMMON   OFFERS   ADVICE    379 

Henderson  almost  staggered.  "He's  not  gone?  And  left 
no  address  ?    You  don't  mean  it !    He'll  never  forgive  her ! " 

"Never  is  a  long  time,  Hart,"  said  Mr.  Ammon. 
"And  it  seems  even  longer  to  those  of  us  who  are  well  ac- 
quainted with  Phil.  Last  night  was  not  the  last  straw. 
It  was  the  whole  straw-stack.  It  crushed  Phil  so  far  as 
she  is  concerned.  He  will  not  see  her  again  voluntarily, 
and  he  will  not  forget  if  he  does.  You  can  take  it  from 
him,  and  from  me,  we  have  accepted  the  lady's  decision. 
Will  you  have  a  cup  of  coffee?" 

Twice  Henderson  opened  his  lips  to  speak  of  Edith 
Carr's  despair.  Twice  he  looked  into  the  stern,  inflexible 
face  of  Mr.  Ammon  and  could  not  betray  her.  He  held 
out  the  ring. 

"I  have  no  instructions  as  to  that,"  said  the  elder  Am- 
mon, drawing  back.  "Possibly  Miss  Carr  would  have  it 
as  a  keepsake." 

"I  am  sure  not,"  said  Henderson  curtly. 

"Then  suppose  you  return  it  to  Peacock.  I  will 
'phone  him.  He  will  give  you  the  price  of  it,  and  you 
might  add  it  to  the  children's  Fresh  Air  Fund.  We  would 
be  obliged  if  you  would  do  that.  No  one  here  cares  to 
handle  the  object." 

"As  you  choose,"  said  Henderson.     "Good  morning!" 

Then  he  went  to  his  home,  but  he  could  not  think  of 
sleep.  He  ordered  breakfast,  but  he  could  not  eat.  He 
paced  the  library  for  a  time,  but  it  was  too  small.  Going 
out  on  the  streets  he  walked  until  exhausted,  then  he 
called  a  hansom    and  was  driven  to  his  club.     He  had 


380  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

thought  himself  familiar  with  every  depth  of  suffering; 
that  night  had  taught  him  that  what  he  felt  for  himself 
was  not  to  be  compared  with  the  anguish  which  wrung 
his  heart  over  the  agony  of  Edith  Carr.  He  tried  to 
blame  Philip  Ammon,  but  being  an  honest  man,  Hender- 
son knew  that  was  unjust.  The  fault  lay  wholly  with 
her,  but  that  only  made  it  harder  for  him,  as  he  realized 
it  would  in  time  for  her.  As  he  sauntered  into  the  room 
an  attendant  hurried  to  him. 

"You  are  wanted  most  urgently  at  the  'phone,  Mr. 
Henderson,"  he  said.  "You  have  had  three  calls  from 
Main  5770." 

Henderson  shivered  as  he  picked  down  the  receiver  and 
gave  the  call. 

"Is  that  you,  Hart?"  came  Edith's  voice. 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  find  Phil?" 

"No." 

"Did  you  try?" 

"Yes.     As  soon  as  I  left  you  I  went  straight  there," 

"Wasn't  he  home  yet?" 

"He  has  been  home  and  gone  again." 

"Gone!" 

The  cry  tore  Henderson's  heart. 

"Shall  I  come  and  tell  you,  Edith?" 

"No!    Tell  me  now." 

"When  I  got  to  the  house  Banks  said  Mr.  Ammon  and 
Phil  were  out  in  the  motor,  so  I  waited.  Mr.  Ammon 
came  back  soon.     Edith,  are  you  alone?" 


THE   ELDER  AMMON   OFFERS   ADVICE   381 

"Yes.     Goon!" 

"Call  your  maid.  I  can't  tell  you  until  some  one  is 
with  you." 

"Tell  me  instantly!" 

"Edith,  he  said  he  had  been  to  the  station.  He  said 
Phil  had  started  to  Siam  or  Patagonia,  he  didn't  know 
which,  and  left  no  address.     He  said " 

Distinctly  Henderson  heard  her  fall.  He  set  the  buzzer 
ringing,  and  in  a  few  seconds  heard  voices,  so  he  knew  she 
had  been  found.  Then  he  crept  into  a  private  den  and 
shook  with  a  hard,  nervous  chill. 

The  next  day  Edith  Carr  started  on  her  trip  to  Europe. 
Henderson  felt  certain  she  hoped  to  meet  Philip  there. 
He  was  sure  she  would  be  disappointed,  though  he  had  no 
idea  where  Ammon  could  have  gone.  But  after  much 
thought  he  decided  he  would  see  Edith  soonest  by  re- 
maining at  home,  so  he  spent  the  summer  in  Chicago. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Wherein  Philip  Ammon  Returns  to  the  Limberlost; 
and  Elnora  Studies  the  Situation 

"We  must  be  thinking  about  supper,  mother,"  said 
Elnora,  as  she  set  the  wings  of  a  Cecropia  with  great  care. 
"It  seems  as  if  I  can't  get  enough  to  eat,  or  enough  of 
being  at  home.  I  enjoyed  that  city  house.  I  don't  be- 
lieve I  could  have  gotten  through  my  work  if  I  had  been 
compelled  to  walk  back  and  forth.  I  thought  at  first  I 
never  wanted  to  come  here  again.  Now,  I  feel  as  if  I 
could  not  live  anywhere  else." 

"Elnora,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock,  "there's  someone  com- 
ing down  the  road." 

"Coming  here,  do  you  think?" 

"Yes,  coming  here,  I  suspect." 

Elnora  glanced  quickly  at  her  mother  and  then  turned 
to  the  road  as  Philip  Ammon  reached  the  gate. 

"  Careful,  mother ! "  the  girl  instantly  warned.  "  If  you 
change  your  treatment  of  him  a  hair's  breadth,  he  will 
suspect.     Come  with  me  to  meet  him." 

She  dropped  her  work  and  sprang  up. 

"Well,  of  all  the  delightful  surprises!"  she  cried. 

She  was  a  trifle  thinner  than  during  the  previous  sum- 

382 


PHILIP  AMMON  RETURNS  383 

mer.  On  her  face  there  was  a  more  mature,  patient  look, 
but  the  sun  struck  her  bare  head  with  the  same  ray  of  red 
gold.  She  wore  one  of  the  old  blue  gingham  dresses, 
open  at  the  throat  and  rolled  to  the  elbows.  Mrs.  Corn- 
stock  did  not  look  at  all  the  same  woman,  but  Ammon 
saw  only  Elnora;  heard  only  her  greeting.  He  caught 
both  hands  where  she  offered  but  one. 

"Elnora,"  he  cried,  "if  you  were  engaged  to  me,  and 
we  were  at  a  ball,  among  hundreds,  where  I  offended  you 
very  much,  and  didn't  even  know  I  had  done  anything, 
and  if  I  asked  you  before  all  of  them  to  allow  me  to  ex- 
plain, to  forgive  me,  to  wait,  would  your  face  grow  dis- 
torted and  unfamiliar  with  anger?  Would  you  drop  my 
ring  on  the  floor  and  insult  me  repeatedly?  Oh,  Elnora, 
would  you?" 

Elnora's  big  eyes  seemed  to  leap,  while  her  face  grew 
very  white.     She  wrenched  away  her  hands. 

"Hush,  Phil!  Hush!"  she  protested.  "That  fever 
lias  you  again!  You  are  dreadfully  ill.  You  don't  know 
what  you  are  saying." 

"I  am  sleepless  and  exhausted;  I'm  heartsick;  but  I 
am  well  as  I  ever  was.     Answer  me,   Elnora,  would  you?" 

"Answer  nothing!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  If  Wesley 
Sinton  had  been  speaking  to  her  just  then  he  would 
have  called  her  "Kate."  "Answer  nothing!  Hang  your 
coat  there  on  your  nail,  Phil,  and  come  split  some  kin- 
dling. Elnora,  clean  away  that  stuff,  and  set  the  table. 
Can't  you  see  the  boy  is  starved  and  tired?  He's  come 
home  to  rest  and  get  a  decent  meal.     Come  on,  Phil!" 


384  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Mrs.  Comstock  marched  away,  and  Ammon  hung  his 
coat  in  its  old  place  and  followed.  Out  of  sight  and  hear- 
ing she  turned  on  him. 

"Do  you  call  yourself  a  man  or  a  hound?"  she  flared. 

"I  beg  your  pardon !"  stammered  Philip  Ammon. 

"I  should  think  you  would!"  she  ejaculated.  "I'll 
admit  you  did  the  square  thing  and  was  a  man  last  sum- 
mer, though  I'd  like  it  better  if  you'd  faced  up  and  told 
me  you  were  promised;  but  to  come  back  here  babying, 
and  take  hold  of  Elnora  like  that,  and  talk  that  way  be- 
cause you  have  had  a  fuss  with  your  girl,  I  don't  tolerate. 
Split  that  kindling  and  I'll  get  your  supper,  and  then  you 
best  go.  I  won't  have  you  working  on  Elnora's  big  heart, 
because  you  have  quarrelled  with  some  one  else.  You'll 
have  it  patched  up  in  a  week  and  be  gone  again,  so  you 
can  go  right  away." 

"Mrs.  Comstock,  I  came  here  to  ask  Elnora  to  marry 
me." 

"The  more  fool  you,  then!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"This  time  yesterday  you  were  engaged  to  another  woman, 
no  doubt.  Now,  for  some  little  flare-up  you  come  rac- 
ing here  to  use  Elnora  as  a  tool  to  spite  the  other  girl. 
A  week  of  sane  living,  and  you  will  be  sorry  and  ready  to 
go  back  to  Chicago,  or,  if  you  really  are  man  enough  to 
be  sure  of  yourself,  she  will  come  to  claim  you.  She  has 
her  rights.  An  engagement  of  years  is  a  serious  matter, 
and  not  broken  for  a  whim.  If  you  don't  go,  she'll  come. 
Then,  when  you  patch  up  your  affairs  and  go  sailing  away 
together,  where  does  my  girl  come  in?" 


PHILIP  AMMON  RETURNS  38$ 

"I  am  a  lawyer,  Mrs.  Comstock,"  said  Ammon.  "It 
appeals  to  me  as  beneath  your  ordinary  sense  of  justice 
to  decide  a  case  without  hearing  the  evidence.  It  is  due 
me  that  you  hear  me  first." 

•'Hear  your  side!"  flashed  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I'd  a 
heap  sight  rather  hear  the  girl!" 

"I  wish  to  my  soul  that  you  had  heard  and  seen  her  last 
night,  Airs.  Comstock,"  said  Ammon.  "Then,  my  way 
would  be  clear.  I  never  even  thought  of  coming  here  to- 
day. I'll  admit  I  would  have  come  in  time,  but  not  for 
many  months.     My  father  sent  me." 

"Your  father  sent  you!"  repeated  Mrs.  Comstock. 
"Why?" 

"Father,  mother,  and  Polly  were  present  last  night. 
They  and  all  my  friends  saw  me  insulted  and  disgraced 
in  the  worst  exhibition  of  uncontrolled  temper  any  of 
us  ever  witnessed.  All  of  them  knew  it  was  the  end. 
Father  liked  what  I  had  told  him  of  Elnora,  and  he  ad- 
vised me  to  come  here,  so  I  came.  If  she  does  not  want 
me,  I  can  leave  instantly,  but,  oh,  I  hoped  she  would 
understand!" 

"You  people  are  not  splitting  wood,"  called  Elnora 
from  the  back  door. 

"Oh,  yes,  we  are!"  answered  Mrs.  Comstock.  "You 
set  out  the  things  for  biscuit,  and  lay  the  table."  She 
turned  again  to  Ammon.  "I  know  considerable  about 
your  father,"  she  said.  "I  have  met  your  uncle's  family 
frequently  this  winter.  I've  heard  your  Aunt  Anna  say 
that  she  didp't  at  all  like  Miss  Carr,  and  that  she  and  aH 


386  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

your  family  secretly  hoped  that  something  would  happen 
to  prevent  your  marrying  her.  That  chimes  right  in 
with  your  saying  that  your  father  sent  you  here.  I  guess 
you  better  speak  your  piece." 

Ammon  gave  his  version  of  the  previous  night. 

"Do  you  believe  me?"  he  finished* 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 

"May  I  stay?" 

"Oh,  it  looks  all  right  for  you,  but  what  about  her?" 

"Nothing,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  Her  plans  were 
all  made  to  start  to  Europe  to-day.  I  suspect  she  is  on 
the  way  by  this  time.  Elnora  is  very  sensible,  Mrs.  Com- 
stock.    Hadn't  you  better  let  her  decide  this?" 

"The  final  decision  rests  with  her,  of  course,"  admitted 
Mrs.  Comstock.  "But  look  you  one  thing!  She's  all 
I  have.  As  Solomon  says,  'She  is  the  one  child,  the  only 
child  of  her  mother.'  I've  suffered  enough  in  this  world 
that  I  fight  against  any  suffering  which  threatens  her0 
So  far  as  I  know  you've  always  been  a  man,  and  you  may 
stay.  But  if  you  bring  tears  and  heartache  to  her,  don't 
have  the  assurance  to  think  I'll  bear  it  tamely.  I'll  get 
right  up  and  fight  like  a  catamount,  if  things  go  wrong 
for  Elnora!" 

"I  have  no  doubt  but  you  will,"  replied  Ammon,  "and 
I  don't  blame  you  in  the  least  if  you  do.  I  have  the  ut- 
most devotion  to  offer  Elnora,  a  good  home,  fair  social 
position,  and  my  family  will  love  her  dearly.  Think  it 
over.     I  know  it  is  sudden,  but  my  father  advised  it." 

"Yes,  I  reckon  he  did!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock  dryly. 


PHILIP  AMMON  RETURNS  387 

"I  guess  instead  of  me  being  the  catamount,  you  had  the 
genuine  article  up  in  Chicago,  masquerading  in  peacock 
feathers,  and  posing  as  a  fine  lady,  until  her  time  came  to 
scratch.  Human  nature  seems  to  be  pretty  much  the 
same  the  world  over.  But  I'd  give  a  pretty  to  know  that 
secret  thing  you  say  you  don't,  that  set  her  to  raving 
over  your  just  catching  a  moth  for  Elnora.  You  might 
get  that  crock  of  strawberries  in  the  spring  house." 

They  prepared  and  ate  supper.  Afterward  they  sat 
in  the  arbour  and  talked,  or  Elnora  played  until  time  for 
Ammon  to  go. 

"Will  you  walk  to  the  gate  with  me?"  he  asked  Elnora 
as  he  arose. 

"Not  to-night,"  she  answered  lightly.  "Come  early 
in  the  morning  if  you  like,  and  we  will  go  over  to  Sleepy 
Snake  Creek  and  hunt  moths  and  gather  dandelions  for 
dinner." 

Ammon  leaned  toward  her.  "May  I  tell  you  to- 
morrow why  I  came?"  he  asked. 

"I  think  not,"  replied  Elnora.  "The  fact  is,  I  don't 
care  why  you  came.  It  is  enough  for  me  that  we  are  your 
very  good  friends,  and  that  in  trouble  you  have  found  us 
a  refuge.  I  fancy  we  had  better  live  a  week  or  two  before 
you  say  anything.  There  is  a  possibility  what  you  have 
to  say  may  change  in  that  length  of  time." 

"It  will  not  change  one  iota!"  cried  Ammon. 

"Then  it  will  have  the  grace  of  that  much  age  to  give 
it  some  small  touch  of  flavour,"  said  the  girl.  "Come 
early  in  the  morning." 


388  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

She  lifted  the  violin  and  began  to  play  a  dainty  fairy 
dance. 

"Well,  bless  my  soul!"  softly  ejaculated  the  astounded 
Mrs.  Comstock.  "To  think  I  was  worrying  for  fear  you 
couldn't  take  care  of  yourself!" 

Elnora  laughed  as  she  played. 

"Shall  I  tell  you  what  he  said?"  inquired  Mrs.  Com- 
stock. 

"Nope!  I  don't  want  to  hear  it!"  said  Elnora.  "He 
is  only  six  hours  from  Chicago.  I'll  give  her  a  week  to 
find  him  and  fix  it  up,  if  he  stays  that  long.  If  she  don't 
put  in  an  appearance  then,  he  can  tell  me  what  he  wants 
to  say,  and  I'll  take  my  time  to  think  it  over.  Time  in 
plenty,  too!  There  are  three  of  us  in  this,  and  one  has 
got  to  be  left  with  a  sore  heart  for  life.  If  the  decision 
rests  with  me  I  propose  to  be  very  sure  that  it  is  the  one 
who  deserves  such  hard  luck.     Let's  go  to  bed." 

The  next  morning  Ammon  came  early,  dressed  in  the 
outing  clothing  he  had  worn  the  previous  summer,  and 
aside  from  a  slight  paleness  seemed  very  much  the  same 
as  when  he  left.  Elnora  met  him  on  the  old  footing,  and 
for  a  week  life  went  on  exactly  as  it  had  the  previous  sum- 
mer. Mrs.  Comstock  made  mental  notes  and  watched 
in  silence.  She  could  see  that  Elnora  was  on  a  strain, 
though  she  hoped  Ammon  would  not.  The  girl  grew 
restless  as  the  week  drew  to  a  close.  Once  when  the  gate 
clicked  she  suddenly  lost  colour  and  moved  nervously. 
Billy  came  down  the  walk. 

Ammon  leaned  toward  Mrs.  Comstock  and  said,  "I  am 


PHILIP  AMMON  RETURNS  389 

expressly  forbidden  to  speak  to  Elnora  as  I  would 
like  just  now.  Would  you  mind  telling  her  for  me 
that  I  had  a  letter  from  my  father  this  morning  saying 
that  Miss  Carr  is  on  her  way  to  Europe  for  the  sum- 


mer: 


?" 


"Elnora,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock  promptly,  "I  have  just 
heard  that  Carr  woman  is  on  her  way  to  Europe,  and  I 
wish  to  my  gracious  stars  she'd  stay  there!" 

Philip  Ammon  shouted,  but  Elnora  arose  hastily  and 
went  to  meet  Billy.  They  came  into  the  arbour  together 
and  after  speaking  to  Mrs.  Comstock  and  Ammon,  Billy 
said,  "Uncle  Wesley  and  I  found  something  funny,  and 
we  thought  you'd  like  to  see." 

"I  don't  know  what  I  should  do  without  you  and 
Uncle  Wesley  to  help  me,"  said  Elnora.  "What  have 
you  found  now?" 

"  Something  I  couldn't  bring.  You  have  to  come  to  it. 
I  tried  to  get  one  and  I  killed  it.  They  are  a  kind  of 
insecty  things,  and  they  got  a  long  tail  that  is  three  fine 
hairs.  They  stick  those  hairs  right  into  the  hard  bark  of 
trees,  and  if  you  pull,  the  hairs  stay  fast  and  it  kills  the 
bug." 

"We  will  come  at  once,"  laughed  Elnora.  "I  know 
what  they  are,  and  I  can  use  some  in  my  work." 

"Billy,  have  you  been  crying?"  inquired  Mrs.  Com- 
stock. 

Billy  lifted  a  chastened  face.  "Yes,  ma'am,"  he  re- 
plied.    "This  has  been  the  worst  day." 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  day?" 


39©  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"The  day  is  all  right,"  admitted  Billy.  "I  mean  every 
single  thing  has  gone  wrong  with  me." 

"Now,  that  is  too  bad!"  sympathized  Mrs.  Comstock. 
'Tell  me  about  it." 

"Began  early  this  morning,"  said  Billy.  "All  Snap's 
fault,  too." 

"Now,  what  has  poor  Snap  been  doing?"  demanded 
Mrs.  Comstock,  her  eyes  beginning  to  twinkle. 

"Digging  for  woodchucks,  just  like  he  always  does. 
He  gets  up  at  two  o'clock  to  dig  for  them.  He  was  com- 
ing in  from  the  woods  all  tired  and  covered  thick  with  dirt. 
I  was  going  to  the  barn  with  the  pail  of  water  for  Uncle 
Wesley  to  use  in  milking.  I  had  to  set  down  the  pail  to 
shut  the  gate  so  the  chickens  wouldn't  get  into  the  flower 
beds,  and  old  Snap  stuck  his  dirty  nose  into  the  water  and 
began  to  lap  it  down.  I  knew  Uncle  Wesley  wouldn't 
use  that,  so  I  had  to  go  'wajr  back  to  the  cistern  for  more, 
and  it  pumps  awful  hard.  Made  me  mad,  so  I  threw  the 
water  on  Snap." 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

"Nothing,  if  he'd  stood  still.  But  it  scared  him  awful, 
and  when  he's  afraid  he  just  goes  a-humping  for  Aunt 
Margaret.  When  he  got  right  up  against  her  he  stiffened 
out  and  gave  a  big  shake.  You  oughter  seen  the  nice 
blue  dress  she  had  put  on  to  go  to  Onabasha!" 

Mrs.  Comstock  and  Ammon  laughed,  but  Elnora  put 
her  arms  around  the  boy.  "Oh,  Billy!"  she  cried. 
"That  was  too  bad!" 

"She  got  up  early  and  ironed  that  dress  to  wear  be- 


PHILIP  AMMON  RETURNS  391 

cause  it  was  cool.  Then,  when  it  was  all  dirty,  she 
wouldn't  go,  and  she  wanted  to  real  bad."  Billy  wiped 
his  eyes.     "That  ain't  all,  either,"  he  added. 

"We'd  like  to  know  about  it,  Billy,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Comstock,  struggling  with  her  face. 

"'Cos  she  couldn't  go  to  the  city,  she's  most  worked 
herself  to  death,  to-day.  She's  done  all  the  dirty,  old 
hard  jobs  she  could  find.  She's  fixing  her  grape  juice 
now." 

"Sure!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "When  a  woman  is 
disappointed  she  always  works  like  a  dog  to  gain  sym- 
pathy!" 

"Well,  Uncle  Wesley  and  I  are  sympathizing  all  we 
know  how,  without  her  working  so.  I've  squeezed  until 
I  almost  busted  to  get  the  juice  out  from  the  seeds  and 
skins.  That's  the  hard  part.  Now,  she  has  to  strain  it 
through  white  flannel  and  seal  it  in  bottles,  and  it's  good 
for  sick  folks.  Most  wish  I'd  get  sick  myself,  so  I  could 
have  a  glass.     It's  so  good!" 

Elnora  glanced  swiftly  at  her  mother. 

"I  worked  so  hard,"  continued  Billy,  "that  she  said 
if  I  would  throw  the  leavings  in  the  woods,  then  I  could 
come  for  you  to  see  about  the  bugs.  Do  "ou  want  to 
go?" 

"We  will  all  go,"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "I  am  mightily 
interested  in  those  bugs  myself." 

From  afar  commotion  could  be  seen  at  the  Sinton  home. 
Wesley  and  Margaret  were  running  around  wildly  and 
peculiar  sounds  filled  the  air. 


392  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"What's  the  trouble?"  asked  Ammon,  hurrying  to 
Wesley. 

"Cholera!"  groaned  Sinton.  "My  hogs  are  dying  like 
flies." 

Margaret  was  softly  crying.  "Wesley,  can't  I  fix  some- 
thing hot?  Can't  we  do  anything?  It  means  several 
hundred  dollars  and  our  winter  meat." 

"I  never  saw  stock  taken  so  suddenly  and  so  hard," 
said  Wesley.  "I  have  'phoned  for  the  veterinary  to  come 
as  soon  as  he  can  get  here." 

All  of  them  hurried  to  the  feeding  pen  into  which  the 
pigs  seemed  to  be  gathering  from  the  woods.  Among 
the  common  stock  were  big  white  beasts  of  pedigree  which 
were  Wesley's  pride  at  county  fairs.  Several  of  these 
rolled  on  their  backs,  pawing  the  air  feebly  and  emitting 
little  squeaks.  A  huge  Berkshire  sat  on  his  haunches 
slowly  shaking  his  head,  the  water  dropping  from  his 
eyes,  until  he,  too,  rolled  over  with  faint  grunts.  A  pair 
crossing  the  yard  on  wavering  legs  collided,  and  attacked 
each  other  in  anger,  only  to  fall,  so  weak  they  scarcely 
could  squeal.  A  fine  snowy  Plymouth  Rock  rooster 
after  several  attempts,  flew  to  the  fence,  balanced  with 
great  effort,  wildly  flapped  his  wings  and  started  to  emit 
a  guttural  crow,  but  broke  off  and  fell  sprawling  among 
the  pigs,  too  helpless  to  stand. 

"Did  you  ever  see  such  a  dreadful  sight?"  sobbed  Mar- 
garet. 

Billy  climbed  on  the  fence,  took  one  long  look  and 
turned  an  astounded  face  to  Wesley. 


PHILIP  AMMON  RETURNS  393 

"Why  them  pigs  is  drunk!"  he  cried.  "They  act  just 
like  my  pa!" 

Wesley  turned  on  Margaret. 

"Where  did  you  put  the  leavings  from  that  grape 
juice?"  he  demanded. 

"I  sent  Billy  to  throw  it  in  the  woods." 

"Billy "  began  Wesley. 

"Threw  it  just  where  she  told  me  to,"  cried  Billy. 
■"But  some  of  the  pigs  came  by  there  coming  into  the 
pen,  and  some  were  close  in  the  fence  corners." 

"Did  they  eat  it?"  demanded  Wesley. 

"They  just  chanked  into  it,"  replied  Billy  graphically. 
"They  pushed,  and  squealed,  and  fought  over  it.  You 
couldn't  blame  'em!     It  was  the  best  stuff  I  ever  tasted!" 

Faint  squealing,  punctuated  by  feeble  crows  filled  the 
long  pause  which  ensued. 

"Margaret,"  said  Welsey,  "run,  'phone  that  doctor 
he  won't  be  needed.  Billy,  take  Elnora  and  Mr.  Ammon 
to  see  the  bugs.  Katharine,  suppose  you  help  me  a 
little." 

Wesley  took  the  clothes  basket  from  the  back  porch 
and  started  in  the  direction  of  the  cellar.  Margaret  re- 
turned from  the  telephone. 

"I  just  caught  him,"  she  said.  "There's  that  much 
saved.     Why,  Wesley,  what  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"You  go  sit  on  the  front  porch  a  little  while,"  said 
Wesley.     "You  will  feel  better  if  you  don't  see  this." 

"Wesley,"  cried  Margaret  aghast.  "  Some  of  that  wine 
is  ten  years  old.     There's  days  and  days  of  hard  work  in 


394  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

it,  and  I  couldn't  say  how  much  sugar.  Dr.  Ammon 
keeps  people  alive  with  it  when  nothing  else  will  stay  on 
their  stomachs." 

"Let  'em  die,  then!"  said  Wesley.  "You  heard  the 
boy,  didn't  you?" 

"It's  a  cold  process.  There's  not  a  particle  of  fer- 
mentation about  it!" 

"Not  a  particle  of  fermentation!  Great  day,  Margaret! 
Look  at  those  pigs!" 

Margaret  took  a  long  look.  "Leave  me  a  few  bottles 
for  mince-meat,"  she  wavered. 

"Not  a  smell  for  any  cause  on  this  earth!  You  heard 
the  boy!  He  shan't  say,  when  he  grows  to  manhood,  that 
he  learned  to  like  it  here!" 

Wesley  made  a  clean  sweep,  Mrs.  Comstock  cheerfully 
assisting.  Then  they  all  went  to  the  woods  to  see  and 
learn  about  the  wonderful  insects.  The  day  ended  with 
a  big  supper  at  Sintons',  and  then  they  went  down  to  the 
Comstock  cabin  for  a  concert.  Elnora  played  beauti- 
fully that  night.  When  the  Sintons  left  she.  kissed  Billy 
with  particular  tenderness.  She  was  so  moved  that  she 
was  kinder  to  Ammon  than  she  had  intended  to  be,  and 
Elnora  as  an  antidote  to  a  disappointed  lover  was  a 
decided  success  in  any  mood. 

However  strong  the  attractions  of  Edith  Carr  had 
been,  once  the  bond  was  finally  broken,  Philip  Ammon 
could  not  help  realizing  that  Elnora  was  the  superior 
woman,  and  that  he  was  fortunate  to  have  escaped,  just 
when  he  regarded  his  ties  strongest.     Every  day,  while 


PHILIP  AMMON    RETURNS  395 

working  with  Elnora,  he  saw  more  to  admire.  He  grew 
very  thankful  that  he  was  free  to  try  to  win  her,  and  im- 
patient to  justify  himself  to  her. 

Elnora  did  not  evince  the  slightest  haste  to  hear  what 
he  had  to  say,  but  waited  the  week  she  had  set,  in  spite 
of  Philip's  hourly  manifest  impatience.  When  she  did 
consent  to  listen,  Philip  realized  before  he  had  talked 
five  minutes  that  she  was  putting  herself  in  Edith  Carr's 
place,  and  judging  him  from  what  the  other  girl's  stand- 
point would  be.  That  was  so  disconcerting,  he  did  not 
plead  his  cause  nearly  so  well  as  he  had  hoped,  for  when 
he  ceased  Elnora  sat  in  silence. 

"You  are  my  judge,"  he  said  at  last.  "What  is  your 
verdict?" 

"If  I  could  hear  her  speak  from  her  heart  as  I  just  have 
heard  you,  then  I  could  decide,"  answered  Elnora. 

"She  is  on  the  ocean,"  said  Philip.  "She  went  be- 
cause she  knew  she  was  wholly  in  the  wrong.  She  had 
nothing  to  say,  or  she  would  have  remained." 

"That  sounds  plausible,"  reasoned  Elnora,  "but  it  is 
pretty  hard  to  find  a  woman  in  an  affair  that  involves  her 
heart,  with  nothing  at  all  to  say.  I  fancy  if  I  could  meet 
her  just  now  she  would  say  several  things.  I  should  love 
to  hear  them.  If  I  could  talk  with  her  three  minutes,  I 
could  tell  what  answer  to  make  you." 

"Don't  you  believe  me,  Elnora?" 

"Unquestioningly,"  answered  Elnora.  "But  I  would 
believe  her  also.  If  only  I  could  meet  her  I  soon  would 
know." 


396  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"I  don't  see  how  that  is  to  be  accomplished,"  said 
Ammon,  "but  I  am  perfectly  willing.  There  is  no  reason 
why  you  should  not  meet  her,  except  that  she  probably 
would  lose  her  temper  and  insult  you." 

"Not  to  any  extent,"  said  Elnora  calmly.  "I  have  a 
tongue  of  my  own,  while  I  am  not  without  some  small 
sense  of  personal  values." 

Ammon  glanced  into  her  face  and  began  to  laugh. 
Very  different  of  facial  formation  and  colouring,  Elnora 
at  times  closely  resembled  her  mother.  She  joined  in 
Amnion's  laugh  a  little  ruefully. 

"The  point  is  this,"  she  said.  "Some  one  is  going  to 
get  hurt,  most  dreadfully.  If  the  decision  as  to  who  it 
shall  be  rests  with  me,  I  must  know  it  is  the  right  one. 
Of  course,  no  one  ever  hinted  it  to  you,  but  you  are  a 
very  attractive  man,  Philip.  You  are  mighty  good  to 
look  at,  and  you  have  a  trained,  refined  mind,  that  makes 
you  most  interesting.  For  years  Edith  Carr  has  felt  that 
you  were  hers.  She  has  lived  expecting  to  assume  the 
closest  relations  of  life  with  you,  She  has  thought  of 
you  as  hers,  and  you  were  hers.  Now,  how  is  she  going 
to  change?  I  have  been  thinking  —  thinking  deep  and 
long,  Phil.  If  I  were  in  her  place,  I  simply  could  not 
give  you  up,  unless  you  had  made  yourself  unworthy  of 
love.  Undoubtedly,  you  never  seemed  so  desirable  to 
her  as  just  now,  when  she  is  told  she  can't  have  you. 
What  I  think  is  that  she  will  come  to  claim  you  yet." 

"You  overlook  the  fact  that  it  is  not  in  a  woman's 
power  to  throw  away  a  man  and  pick  him  up  at  leisure," 


PHILIP  AMMON  RETURNS  397 

said  Ammon  with  some  warmth.  "She  publicly  and  re- 
peatedly cast  me  off.  I  accepted  her  decision  as  publicly 
as  it  was  made.  You  have  done  all  your  thinking  from  a 
wrong  viewpoint.  You  seem  to  have  an  idea  that  it  lies 
with  you  to  decide  what  I  shall  do,  that  if  you  say  the 
word,  I  shall  return  to  Edith.  Get  that  thought  out  of 
your  head!  Now,  and  for  all  time  to  come,  she  is  a 
matter  of  indifference  to  me.  She  killed  all  feeling  in  my 
heart  for  her  so  completely  that  I  do  not  even  dread 
meeting  her.  I  could  see  her  coming  down  the  walk  now 
without  the  quickening  of  a  heartbeat.  I  can  meet  her 
as  casually  as  any  woman  I  ever  met,  and  liked  least  of  all 
women. 

"  If  I  hated  her,  or  was  angry  with  her,  I  could  not  be 
sure  the  feeling  would  not  die.  As  it  is,  she  has  dead- 
ened me  into  a  creature  of  indifference.  So  you  just 
revise  your  viewpoint  a  little,  Elnora.  Cease  thinking 
it  is  for  you  to  decide  what  I  shall  do,  and  that  I  will 
obey  you.  I  make  my  own  decisions  in  reference  to  any 
woman,  save  you.  The  question  you  are  to  decide  is 
whether  I  may  remain  here,  associating  with  you  as  I  did 
last  summer;  but  with  the  difference  that  it  is  understood 
that  I  am  free;  that  it  is  my  intention  to  care  for  you  all 
I  please,  to  make  you  return  my  feeling  for  you  if  I  can. 
There  is  just  one  question  for  you  to  decide,  and  it  is  not 
triangular.  It  is  between  us.  May  I  remain?  May  I 
love  you?  Will  you  give  me  the  chance  to  prove  what  I 
think  of  you?" 

"You  speak  very  plainly,"  said  Elnora. 


398  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"This  is  the  time  to  speak  plainly,"  said  Philip  Ammon. 
"There  is  no  use  in  allowing  you  to  go  on  threshing  out  a 
problem  which  does  not  exist.  If  you  do  not  want  me 
herer  say  so  and  I  will  go.  Of  course,  I  warn  you  before  I 
start  that  I  will  come  back.  I  won't  yield  without  the 
stiffest  fight  it  is  in  me  to  make.  I  will  have  all  you  have 
to  give  any  man  if  I  can  get  it.  But  drop  thinking  it 
lies  in  your  power  to  send  me  back  to  Edith  Carr.  If  she 
were  the  last  woman  in  the  world,  and  I  the  last  man,  I'd 
jump  off  the  planet  before  I  would  give  her  further  op- 
portunity to  exercise  her  temper  on  me.  Narrow  this  to 
us,  Elnora.  Will  you  take  the  place  she  vacated?  Will 
you  take  the  heart  she  threw  away?  I'd  give  my  right 
hand  and  not  flinch  if  I  could  offer  you  my  life,  free  from 
any  contact  with  hers,  but  that  is  not  possible.  I  can't 
undo  things  which  are  done.  I  can  only  profit  by  ex- 
perience and  build  better  in  the  future." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  be  sure  of  yourself,"  said 
Elnora.  "I  don't  see  how  I  could  be  sure  of  you.  You 
loved  her  first,  you  never  can  care  for  me  anything  like 
that.  Always  I'd  have  to  be  afraid  you  were  thinking  of 
her  and  regretting." 

"Folly!"  cried  Ammon.  "Regretting  what?  That  I 
was  not  married  to  a  woman  who  was  liable  to  rave  at  me 
any  time  or  place,  without  my  being  conscious  of  having 
given  offence?  A  man  does  relish  that!  I  am  likely  to 
pine  for  more!" 

"You'd  be  thinking  she'd  learned  a  lesson.  You  would 
think  it  wouldn't  happen  again." 


PHILIP  AMMON  RETURNS  399 

"No,  I  wouldn't  be  'thinking,'"  said  Amnion.  "I'd 
be  everlastingly  sure!  I  wouldn't  risk  what  I  went 
through  that  night  again,  not  to  save  my  life!  Just  you 
and  me,  Elnora.     Decide  for  us." 

"  I  can't ! "  cried  Elnora.     "lam  afraid ! " 

"Very  well,"  said  Ammon.     "We  will  wait  until  you 

feel  that  you  can.     Wait  until  fear  vanishes.     Just  de- 

.cide  now  whether  you  would  rather  have  me  go  for  a  few 

months,  or  remain  with  you.     Which  shall  it  be,  Elnora?" 

"You  can  never  love  me  as  you  did  her,"  wailed  Elnora. 

"I  am  happy  to  say  I  cannot,"  replied  Ammon.  "I've 
cut  my  matrimonial  teeth.  I'm  cured  of  wanting  to 
swell  in  society.  I've  gotten  over  being  proud  of  a  woman 
for  her  looks  alone.  I  have  no  further  use  for  lavishing 
myself  on  a  beautiful,  elegantly  dressed  creature  who 
thinks  only  of  self.  I  have  come  to  the  surface.  I  have 
learned  that  I  am  just  a  common  man.  I  admire  beauty 
and  beautiful  clothing  just  as  much  as  I  ever  did;  but, 
first,  I  want  an  understanding,  deep  as  the  lowest  recess 
of  my  soul,  with  the  woman  I  marry.  I  want  to  work  for 
you,  to  plan  for  you,  to  build  you  a  home  with  every  com- 
fort, to  give  you  all  good  things  I  can,  to  shield  you  from 
every  evil.  I  want  to  interpose  my  body  between  yours 
and  fire,  flood,  or  famine.  I  want  to  give  you  everything; 
but  I  hate  the  idea  of  getting  nothing  at  all  on  which  I  can 
depend  in  return.  Edith  Carr  had  only  good  looks  to 
offer,  and  when  anger  overtook  her,  beauty  went  out  like 
a  snuffed  candle. 

"I  want  you  to  love  me.     I  want  some  consideration. 


4oo  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

I  even  crave  respect.  I've  kept  myself  clean.  So  far 
as  I  know  how  to  be,  I  am  honest  and  scrupulous.  It 
wouldn't  hurt  me  to  feel  that  you  took  some  interest  in 
these  things.  Pretty  fierce  temptations  strike  a  man, 
every  few  days,  in  this  world.  I  can  keep  decent,  for  a 
woman  who  cares  for  decency,  but  when  I  do,  I'd  like  to 
have  the  fact  recognized,  by  just  enough  of  a  show  of 
appreciation  that  I  could  see  it.  I  am  tired  of  this  one- 
sided business.  It  has  made  me  selfish.  After  this,  I 
want  to  get  a  little  in  return  for  what  I  give.  Elnora, 
you  have  love,  tenderness,  and  honest  appreciation  of  the 
finest  in  life.     Take  what  I  offer,  and  give  what  I  ask." 

"You  do  not  ask  much,"  said  Elnora. 

"As  for  not  loving  you  as  I  did  Edith,"  continued  Am- 
nion, "as  I  said  before,  I  hope  not!  I  have  a  newer 
and  a  better  idea  of  loving.  The  feeling  I  offer  you  was 
inspired  by  you.  It  is  a  Limberlost  product.  It  is  as 
much  bigger,  cleaner,  and  more  wholesome  than  any  feel- 
ing I  ever  had  for  Edith  Carr,  as  you  are  bigger  than  she, 
when  you  stand  before  your  classes  and  in  calm  dignity 
explain  the  marvels  of  the  Almighty,  while  she  stands  on 
a  ballroom  floor  and  gives  way  to  uncontrolled  temper. 
Ye  gods,  Elnora,  if  you  could  look  into  my  soul,  you  would 
see  it  leap  and  rejoice  over  my  escape!  Perhaps  it  isn't 
decent,  but  it's  human,  and  I'm  only  a  common  human 
being.  I'm  the  gladdest  thing  alive  that  I'm  free!  I 
would  turn  somersaults  and  yell  if  I  dared.  What  an 
escape!  Just  snatched  out  of  it  with  a  clean  conscience, 
when  I  was  most  besotted.     Stop  straining^  after  Edith 


PHILIP  AMMON  RETURNS  401 

Carr's  viewpoint  and  take  a  look  from  mine.  Put  your- 
self in  my  place  and  try  to  study  out  how  I  feel. 

"I  am  so  happy  I  get  religious  over  it.  Fifty  times  a 
day  I  catch  myself  whispering,  'My  soul  is  escaped!'  As 
for  you,  take  all  the  time  you  want.  If  you  had  rather 
be  alone,  I'll  take  the  next  train  and  stay  away  as  long 
as  I  can  bear  it,  but  I'll  come  back.  You  can  be  most 
sure  of  that.  Straight  as  your  pigeons  to  their  loft,  I'll 
come  back  to  you,  Elnora.     Shall  I  go?" 

"Oh,  what's  the  use  to  be  extravagant?"  murmured 
Elnora. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Wherein   Philip  Ammon    Kneels  to  the  Queen  of 
Love  and  Chicago  Comes  to  the 

LlMBERLOST 

The  month  which  followed  was  a  reproduction  of  the 
previous  June.  There  were  long  moth  hunts,  days  of 
specimen  gathering,  wonderful  hours  with  great  books, 
big  dinners  all  of  them  helped  to  prepare,  and  perfect 
nights  filled  with  music.  Everything  was  as  it  had  been, 
with  the  difference  that  Philip  was  now  an  avowed  suitor. 
He  missed  no  opportunity  to  advance  himself  in  Elnora's 
graces.  At  the  end  of  the  month  he  was  no  nearer  any 
sort  of  understanding  with  her  than  he  had  been  at  the 
beginning.  He  revelled  in  the  privilege  of  loving  her, 
but  he  got  no  response.  Elnora  believed  in  his  love,  yet 
she  hesitated  to  accept  him,  because  she  could  not  forget 
Edith  Carr. 

One  afternoon  early  in  July,  Ammon  came  across  the 
fields,  through  the  Comstock  woods,  and  entered  the 
garden.  He  inquired  for  Elnora  at  the  back  door  and  was 
told  that  she  was  reading  under  the  willow.  He  went 
around  the  west  end  of  the  cabin  to  her.  She  sat  on  a 
rustic  bench  they  had  made  and  placed  beneath  a  droop- 

402 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN        403 

ing  branch.  Ammon  had  not  seen  her  before  in  the  dress 
she  was  wearing.  It  was  clinging  mull  of  pale  green, 
trimmed  with  narrow  ruffles  and  touched  with  knots  of 
black  velvet;  a  simple  dress,  but  vastly  becoming.  Every 
tint  of  her  bright  hair,  her  luminous  eyes,  her  red  lips,  and 
her  rose-flushed  face,  neck,  and  arms  grew  a  little  more 
vivid  with  the  delicate  green  setting. 

Ammon  stopped  short.  She  was  so  near,  so  temptingly 
sweet,  he  lost  control.  He  went  to  her  with  a  half- 
smothered  cry  after  that  first  long  look,  dropped  on  one 
knee  beside  her  and  reached  an  arm  behind  her  to  the 
bench  back,  so  that  he  was  very  near.   He  caught  her  hands. 

"Elnora!"  he  cried  tensely,  "end  it  now!  Say  this 
strain  is  over.  I  pledge  you  that  you  will  be  happy. 
You  don't  know!  If  you  only  would  say  the  word, 
you  would  awake  to  new  life  and  great  joy!  Won't  you 
promise  me  now,  Elnora?" 

The  girl  sat  staring  into  the  west  woods,  while  strong 
in  her  eyes  was  her  father's  look  of  seeing  something  in- 
visible to  others.  Ammon's  arm  slipped  from  the  bench 
around  her.  His  fingers  closed  firmly  over  hers,  his  face 
came  very  near. 

"Elnora,"'  he  pleaded,  "you  know  me  well  enough. 
You  have  had  time  in  plenty.  End  it  now.  Say  you 
will  be  mine!" 

He  gathered  her  closer,  pressing  his  face  against  hers, 
his  breath  on  her  cheek. 

"Can't  you  quite  promise  yet,  my  girl  of  the  Limber- 
lost?" 


4o4  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Elnora  shook  her  head.     Instantly  he  released  her. 

"Forgive  me,"  he  begged.  "I  had  no  intention  of 
thrusting  myself  upon  you,  but,  Elnora,  you  are  the  veriest 
Queen  of  Love  this  afternoon.  From  the  tips  of  your 
toes  to  your  shining  crown,  I  worship  you.  All  my  life 
I  will.  I  want  no  woman  save  you.  You  are  so  wonder- 
ful this  afternoon,  I  couldn't  help  urging.  Forgive  me. 
Perhaps  it  was  something  that  came  this  morning  for 
you.  I  wrote  Polly  to  send  it.  May  we  just  try  if  it 
fits?     Will  you  tell  me  if  you  like  it?" 

He  drew  a  little  white  velvet  box  from  his  pocket  and 
showed  her  a  splendid  emerald  ring. 

"It  may  not  be  right,"  he  said.  "The  inside  of  a  glove 
finger  is  not  very  accurate  for  a  measure,  but  it  was  the 
best  I  could  do.  I  wrote  Polly  to  get  it,  because  she  and 
mother  are  home  from  the  East  this  week,  but  next  they 
will  go  on  to  our  cottage  in  the  north,  and  no  one  knows 
what  is  right  quite  so  well  as  Polly." 

He  laid  the  ring  in  Elnora's  hand. 

"Dearest,"  he  said,  "don't  slip  that  on  your  finger; 
put  your  arms  around  my  neck  and  promise  me,  all  at 
once  and  abruptly,  or  I'll  keel  over  and  die  of  sheer  joy." 

Elnora  smiled. 

"I  won't!  Not  all  those  venturesome  things  at  once; 
but,  Phil,  I'm  ashamed  to  confess  that  ring  simply  fas- 
cinates me.  It  is  the  most  beautiful  one  I  ever  saw,  and 
do  you  know  that  I  never  owned  a  ring  of  any  kind  in  my 
life?  Would  you  think  me  unwomanly  if  I  slip  it  on  just 
a  second,  before  I  can  say  for  sure.      Phil,  you  know  I 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN        405 

care!  I  care  very  much!  You  know  I  will  tell  you  the 
instant  I  feel  right  about  it." 

"Certainly  you  will,"  agreed  Amnion  promptly.  "It 
is  your  right  to  take  all  the  time  you  choose.  I  can't  put 
that  ring  on  you  until  it  means  a  bond  between  us.  I'll 
shut  my  eyes  and  you  try  it  on,  so  we  can  see  if  it  fits 
and  looks  well." 

Philip  turned  his  face  toward  the  west  woods  and 
tightly  closed  his  eyes.  It  was  a  boyish  thing  to  do,  and 
it  caught  the  hesitating  girl  in  the  depths  of  her  heart  as 
the  boy  element  in  a  man  ever  appeals  to  a  motherly 
woman.  Before  she  quite  realized  what  she  was  doing, 
the  ring  slid  on  her  finger.  With  both  arms  she  caught 
Ammon  and  drew  him  to  her  breast,  holding  him  closely. 
Her  head  drooped  over  his,  her  lips  were  on  his  hair. 
So  an  instant,  then  her  arms  dropped.  Ammon  lifted 
a  convulsed,  white  face. 

"Dear  Lord!"  he  whispered.  "You  —  you  didn't 
mean  that,  Elnora!     You What  made  you  do  it?" 

"You  —  you  looked  so  boyish!"  panted  Elnora.  "I 
didn't  mean  it!  I  —  I  forgot  that  you  were  older  than 
Billy.     Look  —  look  at  the  ring!" 

She  thrust  her  hand  before  him  to  distract  his  attention. 

"'The  Queen  can  do  no  wrong,'"  quoted  Ammon  be- 
tween his  set  teeth.  "But  don't  you  do  that  again, 
Elnora,  unless  you  do  mean  it.  Kings  are  not  so  good  as 
queens,  and  there  is  a  limit  with  all  men.  As  you  say, 
we  will  look  at  your  ring.  It  seems  very  lovely  to  me. 
Suppose  you  leave  it  on  until  time  for  me  to  go.     Please 


406  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

do!  I  have  heard  of  mute  appeals;  perhaps  it  will  plead 
for  me.  I  am  wild  for  your  lips  this  afternoon.  I  am 
going  to  take  your  hands." 

He  caught  both  of  them  and  covered  them  with  kisses. 
He  lifted  his  face. 

"Elnora,"  he  said,  "will  you  be  my  wife?" 

"I  must  have  a  little  more  time,"  she  whispered.  "I 
must  be  absolutely  certain,  for  when  I  say  yes,  and  give 
myself  to  you,  only  death  shall  part  us.  I  would  not  give 
you  up.  So  I  want  just  a  little  more  time  —  but,  I  think 
I  will." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Ammon.  "If  at  any  time  you  feel 
that  you  have  reached  a  decision,  will  you  tell  me?  I 
don't  feel  as  if  I  could  lose  a  second  waiting  to  stumble 
on  that  fact.  Will  you  promise  me  to  tell  me  instantly, 
or  shall  I  keep  asking  you  until  the  time  comes  ? " 

"You  make  it  difficult,"  said  Elnora.  "But  I  will 
promise  you  that.  Whenever  the  last  doubt  vanishes,  I 
will  let  you  know  instantly  —  if  I  can." 

"Would  it  be  hard  for  you?"  whispered  Ammon. 

"I  —  I  don't  know,"  faltered  Elnora. 

"It  seems  as  if  I  can't  be  man  enough  to  put  this 
thought  aside  and  give  up  this  afternoon,"  said  Ammon. 
"I  am  ashamed  of  myself,  but  I  can't  help  it.  I  am  going 
to  ask  God  to  make  that  last  doubt  vanish  before  I  go 
this  night.  I  am  going  to  believe  that  ring  will  plead  for 
me.  I  am  going  to  hope  that  doubt  will  disappear  sud- 
denly. I  will  be  watching.  Every  second  I  will  be 
watching.     If  it  happens  and  you  can't  speak,  give  me 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN        407 

your  hand.  Just  the  least  movement  toward  me,  I  will 
understand.  Would  it  help  you  to  talk  it  over  with  your 
mother?     Shall  I  call  her?     Shall  I ?" 

Honk!  Honk!  Honk!  Hart  Henderson  set  the 
alarm  of  the  big  automobile  going  as  it  shot  from  behind 
the  trees  lining  the  Brushwood  road.  The  picture  of  a 
vine-covered  cabin,  a  great  drooping  tree,  a  green-clad 
girl,  and  a  man  bending  over  her  very  closely  flashed  into 
view.  Edith  Carr  caught  her  breath  with  a  snap.  Polly 
Ammon  gave  Tom  Levering  a  quick  touch  and  wickedly 
winked  at  him. 

Several  days  before,  Edith  had  returned  from  Europe 
suddenly.  She  and  Henderson  had  called  at  the  Ammon 
residence  saying  that  they  were  going  to  motor  down  to 
the  Limberlost  to  see  Philip  a  few  hours,  and  urged  that 
Polly  and  Tom  accompany  them.  Mrs.  Ammon  knew 
that  her  husband  would  disapprove  of  the  trip,  but  it  was 
easy  to  see  that  Edith  Carr  had  determined  on  going. 
So  the  mother  thought  it  better  to  have  Polly  along  to 
support  Philip  than  to  allow  him  to  confront  Edith  un- 
expectedly and  alone.  Polly  was  full  of  spirit.  She  did 
not  relish  the  thought  of  Edith  as  a  sister.  Always  they 
had  been  in  the  same  set;  always  Edith,  because  of  greater 
beauty  and  wealth,  had  patronized  Polly.  Although  it 
had  rankled,  she  had  borne  it  sweetly.  But  two  days  be- 
fore, her  father  had  extracted  a  promise  of  secrecy,  given 
her  Philip's  address  and  told  her  to  send  him  the  finest 
emerald  ring  she  could  select.  Polly  knew  how  the  ring 
would  be  used.     What  she  did  not  know  was  that  the  girl 


408  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

who  accompanied  her  went  back  to  the  store  afterward, 
made  an  excuse  to  the  clerk  that  she  had  been  sent  to  be 
absolutely  sure  that  the  address  was  right,  and  so  secured 
it  for  Edith  Carr. 

Two  days  later  Edith  had  induced  Hart  Henderson  to 
take  her  to  Onabasha.  By  the  aid  of  maps  they  located 
the  Comstockland  and  passed  it,  merely  to  see  the  place. 
Henderson  hated  that  trip,  and  implored  Edith  not  to  take 
it,  but  she  made  no  effort  to  conceal  from  him  what  she 
suffered,  and  it  was  more  than  he  could  endure.  He 
pointed  out  that  Philip  had  gone  away  without  leaving 
an  address,  because  he  did  not  wish  to  see  her,  or  any  cf 
them.  But  Edith  was  so  sure  of  her  power,  she  felt  cer- 
tain Philip  needed  only  to  see  her  to  succumb  to  her 
beauty  as  he  always  had  done,  while  now  she  was  ready  to 
plead  for  forgiveness.  So  they  came  down  the  Brushwood 
road,  and  Henderson  had  just  said  to  Edith  beside  him, 
"This  should  be  the  Comstock  land  on  our  left." 

A  minute  later  the  wood  ended,  while  the  sunlight,  as 
always  pitiless,  etched  with  distinctness  the  scene  at 
the  west  end  of  the  cabin.  Instinctively,  to  save  Edith, 
Henderson  set  the  whistle  blowing.  He  had  thought  to 
go  on  to  the  city,  but  Polly  Ammon  stood,  crying  "Phil! 
Phil!"  Tom  Levering  was  on  his  feet  shouting  and 
waving,  while  Edith  in  her  most  imperial  manner  ordered 
him  to  turn  into  the  lane  leading  through  the  woods  be- 
side the  cabin. 

"Fix  it  some  way  that  I  get  a  minute  alone  with  her," 
she  commanded  as  he  stopped  the  car. 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN         409 

"That  is  my  sister  Polly,  her  fiance,  Tom  Levering,  a 
friend  of  mine  named  Henderson,  and "  began  Am- 
nion. 

"  —  and  Editn  Carr,"  volunteered  Elnora. 

"And  Edith  Carr,"  repeated  Philip  Ammon.  "El- 
nora, be  brave,  for  my  sake.  Their  coming  can  make  no 
difference  in  any  way.  I  won't  let  them  stay  but  a  few 
minutes.     Come  with  me!" 

"Do  I  look  scared?"  inquired  Elnora  serenely.  "This 
is  why  you  haven't  had  your  answer.  I  have  been  wait- 
ing just  six  weeks  for  that  motor.  You  may  bring  them 
to  me  at  the  arbour." 

Ammon  glanced  at  her  and  broke  into  a  laugh.  She 
had  not  lost  colour.  Her  self-possession  was  perfect. 
She  deliberately  turned  and  walked  toward  the  grape 
arbour,  while  he  sprang  over  the  west  fence  and  ran  to 
the  car. 

Elnora  standing  in  the  arbour  entrance  made  a  perfect 
picture,  framed  in  green  leaves  and  tendrils.  No  matter 
how  her  heart  ached,  it  was  good  to  her,  for  it  pumped 
steadily,  and  kept  her  cheeks  and  lips  suffused  with 
colour.  She  saw  Philip  reach  the  car  and  gather  his 
sister  into  his  arms.  Past  her  he  reached  a  hand  to 
Levering,  then  to  Edith  Carr  and  Henderson.  He  lifted 
his  sister  to  the  ground,  and  assisted  Edith  to  alight. 
Instantly  she  stepped  beside  him,  and  Elnora's  heart 
played  its  first  trick. 

She  could  see  that  Miss  Carr  was  splendidly  beautiful, 
while  she  moved  with  the  hauteur  and  grace  supposed  to 


410  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

be  the  prerogatives  of  royalty.  And  she  had  instantly 
taken  possession  of  Philip  Amnion.  But  Ammon  also 
had  a  brain  which  was  working  with  rapidity.  He 
knew  Elnora  was  watching,  so  he  swung  around  to  the 
others. 

"Give  her  up,  Tom!"  he  cried.  "I  didn't  know  I 
wanted  to  see  the  little  nuisance  so  badly,  but  I  do.  How 
are  father  and  mother?  Polly,  didn't  the  mater  send  me 
something?" 

"She  did!"  said  Polly  Ammon,  stopping  on  the  path 
and  lifting  her  chin  as  a  little  child,  while  she  drew  away 
her  veil. 

Philip  caught  her  in  his  arms  and  stooped  for  his 
mother's  kiss. 

"Be  good  to  Elnora!"  he  whispered. 

"Umhu!"  assented  Polly.  And  aloud  —  "Look  at 
that  ripping  green  and  gold  symphony!  I  never  saw  such 
a  beauty!  Thomas  Asquith  Levering,  you  come  straight 
here  and  take  my  hand!" 

Edith's  move  to  compel  Ammon  to  approach  Elnora 
beside  her  had  been  easy  to  see;  also  its  failure.  Hen- 
derson stepped  into  Ammon's  place  as  he  turned  to  his 
sister.  Instead  of  taking  Polly's  hand  Levering  ran  to 
open  the  gate.  Edith  passed  through  first,  but  Polly 
darted  in  front  of  her  on  the  run,  with  Phil  holding  her 
arm,  and  swept  up  to  Elnora.  Polly  looked  for  the  ring 
and  saw  it.     That  settled  matters  with  her. 

"You  lovely,  lovely,  darling  girl!"  she  cried,  throwing 
her  arms  around  Elnora  and  kissing  her.     With  her  lips 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN         411 

near  Elnora's  ear,  Polly  whispered,  "Sister!  Dear,  dear 
sister!" 

Elnora  drew  back,  staring  at  Polly  in  confused  amaze- 
ment. She  was  a  beautiful  girl,  dressed  in  some  wonder- 
ful way,  her  eyes  were  sparkling  and  dancing,  and  as  she 
turned  to  make  way  for  the  others,  she  kept  one  of  El- 
nora's hands  in  hers.  Polly  would  have  dropped  very 
dead  in  that  instant  if  Edith  Carr  could  have  killed  with  a 
look,  for  not  until  then  did  she  realize  that  Polly  would 
even  many  a  slight,  and  that  it  had  been  a  great  mistake 
to  bring  her. 

Edith  bowed  low,  muttered  something  and  touched 
Elnora's  fingers.     Tom  Levering  took  his  cue  from  Polly. 

"I  always  follow  a  good  example,"  he  said,  and  before 
any  one  could  divine  his  intention  he  kissed  Elnora  as  he 
gripped  her  hand  and  cried,  "Mighty  glad  to  meet  you! 
Like  to  meet  you  a  dozen  times  a  day,  you  know!" 

Elnora  laughed  and  her  heart  pumped  smoothly. 
They  had  accomplished  their  purpose.  They  had  let 
her  know  they  were  there  through  compulsion,  but  on  her 
side.  In  that  instant  only  pity  was  in  Elnora's  breast 
for  the  flashing  dark  beauty,  standing  with  smiling  face 
while  her  heart  must  have  been  filled  with  exceeding  bit- 
terness.    Elnora  stepped  back  from  the  entrance. 

"Come  into  the  shade,"  she  urged.  "You  must  have 
found  it  warm  on  these  country  roads.  Won't  you  lay 
aside  your  dust-coats  and  have  a  cool  drink?  Philip, 
would  you  ask  mother  to  come,  and  bring  that  pitcher 
in  the  spring  house?" 


412  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

They  entered  the  arbour  exclaiming  at  the  dim,  green 
coolness.  There  was  plenty  of  room  and  wide  seats 
around  the  sides,  a  table  in  the  centre,  on  which  lay  a 
piece  of  embroidery,  magazines,  books,  the  moth  appara- 
tus, and  the  cyanide  jar  containing  several  specimens. 
Polly  rejoiced  in  the  cooling  shade,  slipped  off  her  duster, 
removed  her  hat,  rumpled  her  pretty  hair  and  seated 
herself  to  indulge  in  the  delightful  occupation  of  paying 
off  old  scores.  Tom  Levering  followed  her  example. 
Edith  took  a  seat,  but  refused  to  remove  her  hat  and  coat, 
while  Henderson  stood  in  the  entrance. 

"There  goes  something  with  wings!  Should  you  have 
that?"  cried  Levering. 

He  seized  a  net  from  the  table  and  raced  across  the 
garden  after  a  butterfly.  He  caught  it  and  came  back 
mightily  pleased  with  himself.  As  the  creature  struggled 
in  the  net,  Elnora  noted  a  repulsed  look  on  Edith  Carr's 
face.     Levering  helped  the  situation  beautifully. 

"Now  what  have  I  got?"  he  demanded.  "Is  it  just  a 
common  one  that  every  one  knows  and  you  don't  keep,  or 
is  it  the  rarest  bird  off  the  perch?" 

"You  must  have  had  practice,  you  took  that  so  per- 
fectly," said  Elnora.  "I  am  sorry,  but  it  is  quite  com- 
mon and  not  of  a  kind  I  keep.  Suppose  all  of  you  see 
how  beautiful  it  is  and  then  it  may  go  nectar  hunting 
again." 

She  held  the  butterfly  where  all  of  them  could  see, 
showed  its  upper  and  under  wing  colours,  answered 
Polly's  questions  as  to  what  it  ate,  how  long  it  lived,  and 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN        413 

how  it  died.  Then  she  put  it  into  Polly's  hand  saying, 
"Stand  there  in  the  light  and  loosen  your  hold  slowly 
and  easily." 

Elnora  caught  a  brush  from  the  table  and  began  softly 
stroking  the  creature's  sides  and  wings.  Delighted  with 
the  sensation  the  butterfly  slowly  opened  and  closed  its 
wings,  clinging  to  Polly's  soft  little  fingers,  while  every 
one  cried  out  in  surprise.  Elnora  laid  aside  the  brush, 
and  the  butterfly  sailed  away. 

"Why,  you  are  a  wizard!  You  charm  them!"  mar- 
velled Levering. 

"I  learned  that  from  the  Bird  Woman,"  said  Elnora. 
"She  takes  soft  brushes  and  coaxes  butterflies  and  moths 
into  the  positions  she  wants  for  the  illustrations  of  a 
book  she  is  writing.  I  have  helped  her  often.  Most  of 
the  rare  ones  I  get  go  to  her." 

"Then  you  don't  keep  all  you  take?"  questioned 
Levering. 

"Oh,  dear,  no!"  cried  Elnora.  "Not  a  tenth!  For 
myself,  a  pair  of  each  kind  to  use  in  illustrating  the  lec- 
tures I  give  in  the  city  schools  in  the  winter,  and  one  pair 
for  each  collection  I  make.  One  might  just  as  well  keep 
the  big  night  moths  of  June,  for  they  only  live  four  or 
five  days  anyway.  For  the  Bird  Woman,  I  only  save 
rare  ones  she  has  not  yet  secured.  Sometimes  I  think 
it  is  cruel  to  take  such  creatures  from  freedom,  even  for 
an  hour,  but  it  is  the  only  way  to  teach  the  masses  of 
people  how  to  distinguish  the  pests  they  should  destroy 
from  the  harmless  ones  of  great  beauty,-and  secure  prop- 


4H  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

agation  privileges  for  them.  Here  comes  mother  with 
something  cool  to  drink." 

Mrs.  Comstock  came  deliberately,  talking  to  Ammon 
as  she  approached.  Elnora  gave  her  one  searching  look, 
but  could  discover  only  an  extreme  brightness  of  eye  to 
denote  any  unusual  feeling.  She  wore  one  of  her  laven- 
der dresses,  while  her  snowy  hair  was  high  piled.  She 
had  taken  care  of  her  complexion,  and  her  face  had  grown 
fuller  during  the  winter.  She  might  have  been  any  one's 
mother  with  pride,  and  she  was  perfectly  at  ease. 

Polly  instantly  went  to  her  and  held  up  her  face  to  be 
kissed.  Mrs.  Comstock's  eyes  twinkled  and  she  made  the 
greeting  hearty. 

The  drink  was  compounded  of  the  juices  of  oranges 
and  berries  from  the  garden.  It  was  cool  enough  to  frost 
glasses  and  pitcher  and  delicious  to  dusty,  tired  travellers. 
Soon  the  pitcher  was  empty,  and  Elnora  picked  it  up  and 
went  to  refill  it.  While  she  was  gone  Henderson  asked 
Philip  about  some  trouble  he  was  having  with  his  car. 
They  went  to  the  woods  and  began  a  minute  examination  to 
find  a  defect  which  did  not  exist.  Polly  and  Levering  were 
having  an  animated  conversation  with  Mrs.  Comstock. 
Henderson  saw  Edith  arise,  follow  the  garden  path  next 
the  woods  and  stand  waiting  under  the  willow  which 
Elnora  would  pass  on  her  return.  It  was  for  that  meeting 
he  had  made  the  trip.  He  got  down  on  the  ground,  tore 
up  the  car,  worked,  asked  for  help,  and  kept  Philip  busy 
screwing  bolts  and  applying  the  oil  can.  All  the  time 
Henderson  kept  an  eye  on  Edith  and  Elnora  under  the 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN        415 

willow.  But  he  took  pains,  to  lay  the  work  he  asked 
Philip  to  do  where  that  scene  would  be  out  of  his  sight. 
When  Elnora  came  around  the  corner  with  the  pitcher, 
she  found  herself  facing  Edith  Carr. 

"I  want  a  minute  with  you,"  said  Miss  Carr. 

"Very  well,"  replied  Elnora,  walking  on. 

"Set  the  pitcher  on  the  bench  there,"  commanded  Edith 
Carr,  as  if  speaking  to  a  servant. 

"I  prefer  not  to  offer  my  guests  a  warm  drink,"  said 
Elnora.  "I'll  come  back  if  you  really  wish  to  speak  with 
me." 

"  I  came  solely  for  that,"  said  Edith  Carr. 

"  It  would  be  a  pity  to  travel  so  far  in  this  dust  and  heat 
for  nothing.     I'll  only  be  gone  a  second." 

Elnora  set  the  pitcher  before  her  mother.  "Please 
serve  this,"  she  said.  "Miss  Carr  wishes  to  speak  with 
me." 

"Well,  don't  you  pay  the  least  attention  to  anything 
she  says,"  cried  Polly.  "Tom  and  I  didn't  come  here  be- 
cause we  wanted  to.  We  just  came  to  checkmate  her. 
I  hoped  I'd  get  the  opportunity  to  say  a  word  to  you,  and 
now  she  has  given  it  to  me.  I  just  want  to  tell  you  that 
she  threw  Phil  over  in  perfectly  horrid  style.  All  of  us 
detest  her  for  it,  as  much  as  he  does.  She  hasn't  any 
right  to  lay  the  ghost  of  a  claim  to  him,  has  she,  Tom?" 

"Nary  a  claim,"  said  Tom  Levering  earnestly.  "Why, 
even  you,  Polly,  couldn't  serve  me  as  she  did  Phil,  and 
ever  get  me  back  again.  If  I  were  you,  Miss  Comstock, 
I'd  send  my  mother  to  talk  with  her  and  I'd  stay  here." 


416  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Tom  had  gauged  Mrs.  Comstock  rightly.  Polly  put 
'her  arms  around  Elnora.  "Let  me  go  with  you,  dear," 
she  begged. 

"I  promised  I  would  speak  with  her  alone,"  said  Elnora, 
"and  she  has  to  be  considered.  But  thank  you,  very 
much." 

"How  I  shall  love  you!"  exulted  Polly,  giving  Elnora  a 
parting  hug. 

The  girl  slowly  and  gravely  walked  back  to  the  willow. 
She  could  not  imagine  just  what  was  coming,  but  she  was 
promising  herself  that  she  would  be  very  patient  and  con- 
trol her  temper. 

"Will  you  be  seated?"  she  asked  politely. 

Edith  Carr  glanced  at  the  bench,  while  a  shudder  shook 
her. 

"No.  I  prefer  to  stand,"  she  said.  "Did  Mr.  Am- 
nion give  you  the  ring  you  are  wearing,  and  do  you  con- 
sider yourself  engaged  to  him?" 

"By  what  right  do  you  ask  such  personal  questions  as 
those?"  inquired  Elnora. 

"By  the  right  of  a  betrothed  wife.  I  have  been  prom- 
ised to  Philip  Ammon  ever  since  I  wore  short  skirts.  All 
our  lives  we  have  expected  to  marry.  An  agreement  of 
years  cannot  be  broken  in  one  insane  moment.  Always 
he  has  loved  me  devotedly.  Give  me  ten  minutes  with 
him  and  he  will  be  mine  for  all  time." 

"I  seriously  doubt  that,"  said  Elnora.  "But  I  am  per- 
fectly willing  that  you  should  make  the  test.  I  will  call 
him." 


"With  her  lips  near  Elnora's  ear  Polly  whispered, 

'  Sister!   Dear,  dear  sister! '  " 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN  417 

"Stop!"  commanded  Edith  Carr.  "I  told  you  that 
it  was  you  I  came  to  see." 

"I  remember,"  said  Elnora. 

"Mr.  Ammon  is  my  betrothed,"  continued  Edith  Carr. 
•  "I  expect  to  take  him  back  to  Chicago  with  me." 

"You  expect  considerable,"  murmured  Elnora.  "I  will 
raise  no  objection  to  your  taking  him,  if  you  can  —  but, 
I  tell  you  frankly,  I  don't  think  it  possible." 

"You  are  so  sure  of  yourself  as  that,"  scoffed  Edith 
Carr.  "One  hour  in  my  presence  will  bring  back  the 
old  spell,  full  force.  We  belong  to  each  other.  I  will 
not  give  him  up." 

"Then  it  is  untrue  that  you  twice  rejected  his  ring, 
repeatedly  insulted  him,  and  publicly  renounced  him?" 

"That  was  through  you!"  cried  Edith  Carr.  "Phil 
and  I  never  had  been  so  near  and  so  happy  as  we  were  on 
that  night.  It  was  your  clinging  to  him  for  things  that 
caused  him  to  desert  me  among  his  guests,  while  he  tried 
to  make  me  await  your  pleasure.  I  realize  the  spell  of 
this  place,  for  a  summer  season.  I  understand  what  you 
and  your  mother  have  done  to  inveigle  him.  I  know  that 
your  hold  on  him  is  quite  real.  I  can  see  just  how  you 
have  worked  to  ensnare  him!" 

"Men  would  call  that  lying,"  said  Elnora  calmly. 
"The  second  time  I  met  Philip  Ammon  he  told  me  of  his 
engagement  to  you,  and  I  respected  it.  I  did  by  you 
as  I  would  want  you  to  do  by  me.  He  was  here  parts  of 
each  day,  almost  daily  last  summer.  The  Almighty  is 
my  witness  that  never  once,  by  word  or  look,  did  I  ever 


4i 8  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

make  the  slightest  attempt  to  interest  him  in  my  person 
or  personality.  He  wrote  you  frequently  in  my  presence. 
He  forgot  the  violets  for  which  he  asked  to  send  you.  I 
gathered  them  and  carried  them  to  him.  I  sent  him  back 
to  you  in  unswerving  devotion,  and  the  Almighty  is  also 
my  witness  that  I  could  have  changed  his  heart  last  sum- 
mer if  I  had  tried.  I  wisely  left  that  work  for  you.  All 
my  life  I  shall  be  glad  that  I  lived  and  worked  on  the 
square.  That  he  ever  would  come  back  to  me  free,  by 
your  act,  I  never  dreamed.  When  he  left  me  I  did  not 
hope  or  expect  to  see  him  again,"  Elnora's  voice  fell 
soft  and  low,  "and,  behold!  You  sent  him  —  and 
free!" 

"You  exult  in  that!"  cried  Edith  Carr.  "Let  me  tell 
you  he  is  not  free!  We  have  belonged  for  years.  We  al- 
ways will.  If  you  cling  to  him,  and  hold  him  to  rash 
things  he  has  said  and  done,  because  he  thought  me  still 
angry  and  unforgiving  with  him,  you  will  ruin  all  our 
lives.  If  he  married  you,  before  a  month  you  would  read 
heart-hunger  for  me  in  his  eyes.  He  could  not  love  me 
as  he  has  done  and  give  me  up  for  a  little  scene  like  that!" 

"There  is  a  great  poem,"  said  Elnora,  "one  line  of 
which  reads,  'For  each  man  kills  the  thing  he  loves.' 
Let  me  tell  you  that  a  woman  can  do  that  also.  He  did 
love  you  —  that  I  concede.  But  you  killed  his  love 
everlastingly  when  you  disgraced  him  in  public.  Killed 
it  so  completely  he  does  not  even  feel  resentment  toward 
you.  To-day,  he  would  do  you  a  favour,  if  he  could;  but 
love  you,  no!    That  is  over!" 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN         419 

Edith  Carr  stood  truly  regal  and  filled  with  scorn. 
"You  are  mistaken!  Nothing  on  earth  could  kill  that!" 
she  cried,  and  Elnora  saw  that  the  girl  really  believed 
what  she  said. 

"You  are  very  sure  of  yourself!"  said  Elnora. 

"I  have  reason  to  be  sure,"  answered  Edith  Carr. 
"We  have  lived  and  loved  too  long.  I  have  had  years 
with  him  to  match  against  your  days.  He  is  mine!  His 
work,  his  ambitions,  his  friends,  his  place  in  society  are 
with  me.  You  may  have  a  summer  charm  for  a  sick  man 
in  the  country;  if  he  tried  placing  you  in  society,  he  soon 
would  see  you  as  others  will.  It  takes  birth  to  position, 
schooling,  and  endless  practice  to  meet  social  demands 
gracefully.     You  would  put  him  to  shame  in  a  week." 

"I  hardly  think  I  should  follow  your  example  so  far," 
said  Elnora  dryly.  "I  have  a  feeling  for  Philip  that 
would  prevent  my  hurting  him  purposely,  either  in  public 
or  private.  As  for  managing  a  social  career  for  him  he 
never  mentioned  that  he  desired  such  a  thing.  What  he 
asked  of  me  was  that  I  should  be  his  wife.  I  understood 
that  to  mean  that  he  desired  me  to  keep  him  a  clean  house, 
serve  him  digestible  food,  mother  his  children,  and  give 
him  loving  sympathy  and  tenderness." 

"Shameless!"  cried  Edith  Carr. 

"To  which  of  us  do  you  intend  that  adjective  to 
apply?"  inquired  Elnora.  "I  never  was  less  ashamed  in 
all  my  life.  Please  remember  I  am  in  my  own  home,  and 
your  presence  here  is  not  on  my  invitation." 

Miss  Carr  lifted  her  head  and  struggled  with  her  veil. 


420  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

She  was  very  pale  and  trembling  violently,  while  Elnora 
stood  serene,  a  faint  smile  on  her  lips. 

"Such  vulgarity!"  panted  Edith  Carr.  "How  can  a 
man  like  Ammon  endure  it?" 

"Why  don't  you  ask  him?"  inquired  Elnora.  "I  can 
call  him  with  one  breath;  but,  if  he  judged  us  as  we  stand, 
I  should  not  be  the  one  to  tremble  at  his  decision.  Miss 
Carr,  you  have  been  quite  plain.  You  have  told  me  in 
carefully  selected  words  just  what  you  think  of  me.  You 
insult  my  birth,  education,  appearance,  and  home.  I 
assure  you  I  am  legitimate.  I  will  pass  a  test  examina- 
tion with  you  on  any  high  school  or  supplementary  branch, 
or  French  or  German.  I  will  take  a  physical  examina- 
tion beside  you.  I  will  face  any  social  emergency  you 
can  mention  with  you.  I  am  acquainted  with  a  whole 
world  in  which  Philip  Ammon  is  keenly  interested  that 
you  scarcely  know  exists.  I  am  not  afraid  to  face  any 
audience  you  can  get  together  anywhere  with  my  violin. 
I  am  not  repulsive  to  look  at,  and  I  have  a  wholesome 
regard  for  the  proprieties  and  civilities  of  life.  Philip 
Ammon  never  asked  anything  more  of  me,  why  should 
you?" 

"It  is  plain  to  see,"  cried  Edith  Carr,  "that  you  took 
laim  when  he  was  hurt  and  angry  and  kept  his  wound  wide 
open.     Oh,  what  have  you  not  done  against  me?" 

"I  did  not  promise  to  marry  him  when  an  hour  ago  he 
asked  me  the  last  time,  and  offered  me  this  ring,  because 
there  was  so  much  feeling  in  my  heart  for  you,  that  I  knew 
I  never  could  be  happy  if  I  felt  that  in  any  way  I  had 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN        421 

failed  in  doing  justice  to  your  interests.  I  did  slip  on  this 
ring,  which  he  had  just  brought,  because  I  never  owned 
one,  and  it  is  very  beautiful,  but  I  made  him  no  promise, 
nor  shall  I  make  any,  until  I  am  quite,  quite  sure  that 
you  fully  realize  he  never  would  marry  you  if  I  sent  him 
away  this  hour." 

"You  know  perfectly  that  if  your  puny  hold  on  him 
were  broken,  if  he  were  back  in  his  home,  among  his 
friends,  and  where  he  was  meeting  me,  in  one  little  week, 
he  would  be  mine  again,  as  he  always  has  been.  In  your 
heart  you  don't  believe  what  you  say.  You  don't  dare 
trust  him  in  my  presence.  You  are  afraid  to  allow  him 
out  of  your  sight,  because  you  realize  what  the  results 
would  be.  Right  or  wrong,  you  have  made  up  your  mind 
to  ruin  him  and  me,  and  you  are  going  to  be  selfish  enough 
to  do  it.     But " 


«' 


;That  will  do!"  said  Elnora.  "Spare  me  the  enu- 
meration of  how  I  will  regret  it.  I  shall  regret  nothing. 
I  shall  not  act  until  I  know  there  will  be  nothing  to  regret. 
I  have  decided  on  my  course.  You  may  return  to  your 
friends." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  demanded  Edith  Carr. 

"That  is  my  affair,"  replied  Elnora.  "Only  this: 
When  your  opportunity  comes,  seize  it!  Any  time  you 
are  in  Philip  Amnion's  presence,  exert  the  charms  of 
which  you  boast,  and  take  him.  I  grant  you  are  justi- 
fied in  doing  it  if  you  can.  I  want  nothing  more  than  I 
want  to  see  you  marry  Philip,  if  he  wants  you.  He  is 
just  across  the  fence  under  that  automobile.     Go  spread 


422  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

your  meshes  and  exert  your  wiles.  I  won't  stir  to  stop 
you.  Take  him  to  Onabasha,  and  to  Chicago  with  you. 
Use  every  art  you  possess.  If  the  old  charm  can  be  re- 
vived I  will  be  the  first  to  wish  both  of  you  well.  Now, 
I  must  return  to  my  guests.     Kindly  excuse  me." 

Elnora  turned  and  went  back  to  the  arbour.  Edith 
Carr  followed  the  fence  and  passed  through  the  gate  into 
the  west  woods  where  she  asked  Henderson  if  the  car  was 
ready.  As  she  stood  near  him  she  whispered,  "Take 
Phil  back  to  Onabasha  with  us." 

"I  say,  Ammon,  can't  you  go  to  the  city  with  us  and 
help  me  find  a  shop  where  I  can  get  this  pinion  fixed?" 
asked  Henderson.  "We  want  to  lunch  and  start  back 
by  five.  That  will  get  us  home  by  midnight.  Why  don't 
you  bring  your  automobile  here?" 

"I  am  a  working  man,"  said  Philip.  "I  have  no  time 
to  be  out  motoring.  I  can't  see  anything  the  matter  with 
your  car,  myself;  but,  of  course,  you  don't  want  to  break 
down  in  the  night,  on  strange  roads,  with  women  on  your 
hands.     I'll  see." 

Philip  went  into  the  arbour,  where  Polly  took  posses- 
sion of  his  lap,  fingered  his  hair,  and  kissed  his  forehead 
and  lips. 

"When  are  you  coming  to  the  cottage,  Phil?"  she 
asked.  "Come  soon,  and  bring  Miss  Comstock  for  a 
visit.     All  of  us  would  be  so  glad  to  have  her." 

Philip  beamed  on  Polly.  "I'll  see  about  that,"  he 
said.  "Sounds  pretty  good.  Elnora,  Henderson  is  in 
trouble  with  his   automobile.     He  wants  me  to  go  to 


PHILIP  KNEELS  TO  THE  QUEEN        423 

Onabasha  with  him  to  show  him  where  the  doctor  lives 
and  help  him  get  fixed  so  he  can  start  back  this  evening. 
It  will  take  about  two  hours.     May  I  go?" 

"Of  course,  you  must  go,5'  she  said,  laughing  lightly. 
"You  can't  leave  your  sister.  Why  don't  you  go  back  to 
Chicago  with  them?  There  is  plenty  of  room,  and  you 
could  have  a  fine  visit." 

"  I'll  be  back  in  just  two  hours,"  said  Ammon.  "  While 
I  am  gone,  you  be  thinking  over  what  we  were  talking  of 
when  the  folks  came." 

"Miss  Comstock  can  go  with  us  just  as  well  as  not, 
said  Polly.  "That  back  seat  was  made  for  three,  and  I 
can  sit  on  your  lap." 

"Come  on!  Do  come!"  urged  Ammon  instantly,  and 
Tom  Levering  joined  him,  but  Henderson  and  Edith 
silently  waited  at  the  gate. 

"No,  thank  you,"  laughed  Elnora.  "That  would  crowd 
you,  and  it's  warm  and  dusty.  We  will  say  good-bye 
here." 

She  offered  her  hand  to  all  of  them,  and  when  she  came 
to  Ammon  she  gave  him  one  long  steady  look  in  the  eyes, 
then  shook  hands  with  him  also. 


CHAPTER  XXIII  i 

Wherein  Elnora  Reaches  a  Decision,  and  Freckles 
and  the  Angel  Appear 

"Well,  she  came,  didn't  she?"  remarked  Mrs.  Corn- 
stock  to  Elnora  as  they  watched  the  automobile  speed 
down  the  road.  As  it  turned  the  Limberlost  corner, 
Ammon  arose  and  waved  to  them. 

"She  hasn't  got  him  yet,  anyway,"  said  Mrs.  Corn- 
stock,  taking  heart.  "What's  that  on  your  finger,  and 
what  did  she  say  to  you?" 

Elnora  explained  about  the  ring  as  she  drew  it  off. 

"I  have  several  letters  to  write,  then  I  am  going  to 
change  my  dress  and  walk  down  toward  Aunt  Margaret's 
for  a  little  exercise.  I  may  meet  some  of  them,  and  I 
don't  want  them  to  see  this  ring.  You  keep  it  until 
Philip  comes,"  said  Elnora.  "As  for  what  Miss  Carr  said 
to  me,  many  things,  two  of  importance.  One,  that  I 
lacked  every  social  requirement  necessary  for  the  hap- 
piness of  Philip  Ammon,  and  that  if  I  married  him  I  would 
see  inside  a  month  that  he  was  ashamed  of  me " 

"Aw,  shockins!"  scorned  Mrs.  Comstock.     "Go  on!" 

"The  other  was  that  she  has  been  engaged  to  him  for 
years,  that  he  belongs  to  her,  and  she  refuses  to  give  him 

424 


ELNORA  REACHES  A  DECISION         425 

up.  She  said  that  if  he  were  in  her  presence  one  hour,  she 
would  have  him  under  a  mysterious  thing  she  calls  'her 
spell'  again;  if  he  were  where  she  could  see  him  for  one 
week,  everything  would  be  made  up.  It  is  her  opinion 
that  he  is  suffering  from  wounded  pride,  and  that  the 
slightest  concession  on  her  part  will  bring  him  to  his  knees 
before  her." 

Mrs.  Comstock  giggled.  "I  do  hope  the  boy  isn't 
weak-kneed,"  she  said.  "I  just  happened  to  be  passing 
the  west  window  this  afternoon " 

Elnora  laughed.  "Nothing  save  actual  knowledge 
ever  would  have  made  me  believe  there  was  a  girl  in  all 
this  world  so  infatuated  with  herself.  She  speaks  cas- 
ually of  her  power  over  men,  and  boasts  of  'bringing  a 
man  to  his  knees'  as  complacently  as  I  would  pick  up  a 
net  and  say,  'I  am  going  to  take  a  butterfly.'  She 
actually  and  honestly  believes  that  if  Philip  were  with  her 
a  little  while ,  she  could  rekindle  his  love  for  her  and 
awaken  in  him  every  particle  of  the  old  devotion.  Mother, 
the  girl  is  honest!  She  is  absolutely  sincere!  She  so 
believes  in  herself  and  the  strength  of  Phil's  love  for 
her  that  all  her  life  she  will  believe  in  and  brood  over  that 
thought,  unless  she  is  taught  differently.  So  long  as  she 
thinks  that,  she  will  nurse  wrong  ideas  and  pine  over  her 
blighted  life.  She  must  be  taught  that  Phil  is  absolutely 
free,  and  yet  he  will  not  go  to  her." 

"But  how  on  earth  are  you  proposing  to  teach  her 
that?" 

"The  way  will  open." 


426  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Lookey  here,  Elnora!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "That 
Carr  girl  is  the  handsomest  dark  woman  I  ever  saw.  She's 
got  to  the  place  where  she  won't  stop  at  anything.  Her 
coming  here  proves  that.  I  don't  believe  there  was  a 
thing  the  matter  with  that  automobile.  I  think  that  was 
a  scheme  she  fixed  up  to  get  Phil  where  she  could  see  him 
alone,  as  she  worked  to  see  you.  If  you  are  going  de- 
liberately to  put  Philip  under  her  influence  again,  you've 
got  to  brace  yourself  for  the  possibility  that  she  may  win. 
A  man  is  a  weak  mortal,  where  a  lovely  woman  is  con- 
cerned, and  he  never  denied  that  he  loved  her  once.  You 
may  make  yourself  downright  miserable." 

"But,  mother,  if  she  won,  it  wouldn't  make  me  half  so 
miserable  as  to  marry  Phil  myself,  and  then  read  hunger 
for  her  in  his  eyes !  Some  one  has  got  to  suffer  over  this. 
If  it  proves  to  be  me,  I'll  bear  it,  and  you'll  never  hear  a 
whisper  of  complaint  from  me.  I  know  the  real  Philip 
Ammon  better  in  our  months  of  work  in  the  fields  than 
she  knows  him  in  all  her  years  of  society  engagements. 
So  she  shall  have  the  hour  she  asked,  many,  many  of  them, 
enough  to  make  her  acknowledge  that  she  is  wrong. 
Now,  I  am  going  to  write  my  letters  and  take  my  walk." 

Elnora  threw  her  arms  around  her  mother  and  kissed 
her  repeatedly.  "Don't  you  worry  about  me,"  she  said. 
"I  will  get  along  all  right,  and  whatever  happens,  I  al- 
ways will  be  your  girl  and  you  my  darling  mother." 

She  left  two  sealed  notes  on  her  desk.  Then  she 
changed  her  dress,  packed  a  small  bundle  which  she 
dropped  with  her   hat  from  the  window  by  the  willow, 


ELNORA  REACHES  A  DECISION  427 

and  softly  went  downstairs.  Mrs.  Comstock  was  in  the 
garden.  Elnora  picked  up  the  hat  and  bundle,  hurried 
down  the  road  a  few  rods,  then  climbed  the  fence  and  en- 
tered the  woods.  She  took  a  diagonal  course,  and  after 
a  long  walk  reached  a  road  two  miles  west  and  one  south. 
There  she  straightened  her  clothing,  put  on  her  hat  and  a 
thin  dark  veil  and  waited  the  passing  of  the  next  trolley. 
She  left  it  at  the  first  town  and  took  a  train  for  Fort 
Wayne.  She  made  that  point  just  in  time  to  climb  on 
the  evening  train  north,  as  it  pulled  from  the  station.  It 
was  after  midnight  when  she  left  the  car  at  Grand  Rapids, 
and  went  into  the  depot  to  await  the  coming  of  day. 

Tired  out,  she  laid  her  head  on  her  bundle  and  fell 
asleep  on  a  seat  in  the  women's  waiting-room.  Long 
after  light  she  was  awakened  by  the  roar  and  rattle  of 
trains.  She  washed,  rearranged  her  hair  and  clothing, 
and  went  into  the  general  waiting-room  to  find  her  way 
to  the  street.  She  saw  him  as  he  entered  the  door.  There 
was  no  mistaking  the  tall,  lithe  figure,  the  bright  hair, 
the  lean,  brown-splotched  face,  the  steady  gray  eyes.  He 
was  dressed  for  travelling,  and  carried  a  light  overcoat 
and  a  bag.     Straight  to  him  Elnora  went  speeding. 

"Oh,  I  was  just  starting  to  find  you!"  she  cried. 

"Thank  you!"  he  said. 

"You  are  going  away?"  she  panted. 

"Not  if  I  am  needed.  I  have  a  few  minutes.  Can 
you  be  telling  me  briefly?" 

"I  am  the  Limberlost  girl  to  whom  your  wife  gave  the 
dress  for  Commencement  last  spring,  and  both  of  you  sent 


428  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

lovely  gifts.  There  is  a  reason,  a  very  good  reason,  why 
I  must  be  hidden  for  a  time,  and  I  came  straight  to  you  — 
as  if  I  had  a  right." 

"You  have!"  answered  Freckles.  "Any  boy  or  girl 
who  ever  suffered  one  pang  in  the  Limberlost  has  a  claim 
to  the  best  drop  of  blood  in  my  heart.  You  needn't  be 
telling  me  anything  more.  The  Angel  is  at  our  cottage 
on  Mackinac.  You  shall  tell  her  and  play  with  the  babies 
while  you  want  shelter.     This  way!" 

They  breakfasted  in  a  luxurious  car,  talked  over  the 
swamp,  the  work  of  the  Bird  Woman;  Elnora  told  of  her 
nature  lectures  in  the  schools,  and  soon  they  were  great 
friends.  In  the  evening  they  left  the  train  at  Mack- 
inaw City  and  crossed  the  Straits  by  boat.  Sheets  of 
white  moonlight  flooded  the  water  and  paved  a  molten 
path  across  the  breast  of  it  straight  to  the  face  of  the 
moon. 

The  island  lay  a  dark  spot  on  the  silver  surface,  its  tall 
trees  sharply  outlined  on  the  summit,  and  a  million  lights 
blinked  around  the  shore.  The  night  guns  boomed  from 
the  white  fort  and  a  dark  sentinel  paced  the  ramparts 
above  the  little  city  tucked  down  close  to  the  water.  A 
great  tenor  summering  in  the  north  came  out  on  the  upper 
deck  of  the  big  boat,  and,  baring  his  head,  faced  the  moon 
and  sang,  "Oh,  the  moon  shines  bright  on  my  old  Ken- 
tucky home!"  Elnora  thought  of  the  Limberlost,  of 
Philip,  and  her  mother,  and  almost  choked  with  the  sobs 
that  would  rise  in  her  throat.  On  the  dock  a  woman  of 
exquisite  beauty  swept  into  the  arms  of  Terrence  O'More. 


ELNORA  REACHES  A  DECISION  429 

"Oh,  Freckles!"  she  cried.  "You've  been  gone  a 
month!" 

"Four  days,  Angel,  just  four  days  by  the  clock,"  re- 
monstrated Freckles.     "Where  are  the  children?" 

"Asleep!  Thank  goodness!  I'm  worn  to  a  thread. 
I  never  saw  such  inventive,  active  children.  I  can't  keep 
track  of  them!" 

"I  have  brought  you  help,"  said  Freckles.  "Here  is 
the  Limberlost  girl  in  whom  the  Bird  Woman  is  interested. 
Miss  Comstock  needs  a  rest  before  beginning  her  school 
work  for  next  year,  so  she  came  to  us." 

"You  dear  thing!  How  good  of  you!"  cried  the  Angel. 
"We  shall  be  so  happy  to  have  you!" 

In  her  room  that  night,  in  a  beautiful  cottage  furnished 
with  every  luxury,  Elnora  lifted  a  tired  face  to  the  Angel. 

"Of  course,  you  understand  there  is  something  back  of 
this?"  she  said.     "I  must  tell  you." 

"Yes,"  agreed  the  Angel.  "Tell  me!  If  you  get  it 
out  of  your  system,  you  will  stand  a  better  chance  of 
sleeping." 

Elnora  stood  brushing  the  copper-bright  masses  of  her 
hair  as  she  talked.  When  she  finished  the  Angel  was  al- 
most hysterical. 

"You  insane  creature!"  she  cried.  "How  crazy  of  you 
to  turn  him  over  to  her!  I  know  both  of  them.  I  have 
met  them  often.  She  may  be  able  to  make  good  her  boast. 
But  it  is  perfectly  splendid  of  you !  And,  after  all,  really 
it  is  the  only  way.  I  can  see  that.  I  think  it  is  what  I 
should  have  done  myself,  or  tried  to  do.     I  don't  know 


43Q  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

that  I  could  have  done  it!  When  I  think  of  walking  off 
and  leaving  Freckles  with  a  woman  he  once  loved,  to  let 
her  see  if  she  can  make  him  love  her  again,  oh,  it  gives  me 
a  graveyard  heart.  No,  I  never  could  have  done  it! 
You  are  bigger  than  I  ever  was.  I  should  have  turned 
coward,  sure." 

"I  am  a  coward,"  admitted  Elnora.  "I  am  soul-sick! 
I  am  afraid  I  shall  lose  my  senses  before  this  is  over.  I 
didn't  want  to  come!  I  wanted  to  stay,  to  go  straight 
into  his  arms,  to  bind  myself  with  his  ring,  to  love  him 
with  all  my  heart.  It  wasn't  my  fault  that  I  came. 
There  was  something  inside  that  just  pushed  me.  She 
is  beautiful " 

"I  quite  agree  with  you!" 

"You  can  imagine  how  fascinating  she  can  be.  She 
used  no  arts  on  me.  Her  purpose  was  to  cower  me.  She 
found  she  could  not  do  that,  but  she  did  a  thing  which 
helped  her  more.  She  proved  that  she  was  honest,  per- 
fectly sincere  in  what  she  thought.  She  believes  that  if 
she  merely  beckons  to  Philip,  he  will  go  to  her.  So  I  am 
giving  her  the  opportunity  to  learn  from  him  what  he  will 
do.  She  never  will  believe  it  from  any  one  else.  When 
she  is  satisfied,  I  shall  be  also." 

"But,  child!     Suppose  she  wins  him  back!" 

"That  is  the  supposition  with  which  I  shall  eat  and 
sleep  for  the  next  few  weeks.  Would  one  dare  ask  for  a 
peep  at  the  babies  before  going  to  bed?" 

"Now,  you  are  perfect!"  announced  the  Angel.  "I 
never  should  have  liked  you  all  I  can  if  you  had  been  con- 


ELNORA  REACHES  A  DECISION  431 

tent  to  go  to  sleep  in  this  house  without  asking  to  see  the 
babies.  Come  this  way.  We  named  the  first  boy  for 
his  father,  of  course,  and  the  girl  for  Aunt  Alice.  The 
next  boy  is  named  for  my  father,  and  the  baby  for 
the  Bird  Woman.    After  this  we  are  going  to  branch  out." 

Elnora  began  to  laugh. 

"Oh,  I  suspect  there  will  be  quite  a  number  of  them," 
said  the  Angel  serenely.  "I  am  told  the  more  there  are 
the  less  trouble  they  make.  The  big  ones  take  care  of 
the  little  ones.  We  want  a  large  family.  This  is  our 
start." 

She  entered  a  dark  room  and  held  aloft  a  candle.  She 
went  to  the  side  of  a  small  white  iron  bed  in  which  lay  a 
boy  of  eight  and  another  of  three.  They  were  perfectly 
formed,  rosy  children,  the  elder  a  replica  of  his  mother, 
the  other  very  like.  Then  they  came  to  a  cradle  where  a 
baby  girl  of  almost  two  slept  soundly,  and  looked  a 
picture. 

"But  just  see  here!"  said  the  Angel.  She  threw  the 
light  on  a  sleeping  girl  of  six.  A  mass  of  red  curls  swept  the 
pillow.  Line  and  feature  the  face  was  that  of  Freckles. 
Without  asking,  Elnora  knew  the  colour  and  expres- 
sion of  the  closed  eyes.  The  Angel  handed  Elnora  the 
candle,  and,  stooping,  straightened  the  child's  body.  She 
ran  her  fingers  through  the  bright  curls,  and  lightly 
touched  the  aristocratic  little  nose. 

"The  supply  of  freckles  holds  out  in  my  family,  you 
see!"  she  said.  "Both  of  the  girls  will  have  them,  and 
the  second  boy  a  few." 


432  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

She  stood  an  instant  longer,  then,  bending,  ran  her 
hand  caressingly  down  a  rosy  bare  leg,  while  she  kissed 
the  boyish  red  mouth.  There  had  been  some  reason  for 
touching  all  of  them,  the  kiss  fell  on  the  lips  which  were 
like  Freckles's. 

To  Elnora  she  said  a  tender  good-night,  whispering 
brave  words  of  encouragement  and  making  plans  to  fill 
the  days  to  come.  Then  she  went  away.  An  hour  later 
there  was  a  light  tap  on  the  girl's  door. 

"Come!"  she  called  as  she  lay  staring  into  the  dark. 

The  Angel  felt  her  way  to  the  bedside,  sat  down  and 
took  Elnora's  hands. 

"I  just  had  to  come  back  to  you,"  she  said.  "I  have 
been  telling  Freckles,  and  he  is  almost  hurting  himself 
with  laughing.  I  didn't  think  it  was  funny,  but  he  does. 
He  thinks  it's  the  funniest  thing  that  ever  happened.  He 
says  that  to  run  away  from  Mr.  Ammon,  when  you 
had  made  him  no  promise  at  all,  when  he  wasn't  sure 
of  you,  won't  send  him  home  to  her;  it  will  set  him 
hunting  you!  He  says  if  you  had  combined  the  wis- 
dom of  Solomon,  Socrates,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  wise 
men,  you  couldn't  have  chosen  any  course  that  would 
have  sealed  him  to  you  so  surely.  He  feels  that  now 
Ammon  will  perfectly  hate  her  for  coming  down  there 
and  driving  you  away.  And  you  went  to  give  her  the 
chance  she  wanted.  Oh,  Elnora!  It  is  getting  funny!  I 
see  it,  too!" 

The  Angel  rocked  on  the  bedside.  Elnora  faced  the 
dark  in  silence. 


ELNORA  REACHES  A  DECISION  433 

"Forgive  me,"  gulped  the  Angel.  "I  didn't  mean  to 
laugh.  I  didn't  think  it  was  funny,  until  all  at  once  it 
came  to  me.  Oh,  dear!  Elnora,  it  is  funny!  I've  got 
to  laugh!" 

"Maybe  it  is,"  admitted  Elnora,  "to  others;  but  it 
isn't  very  funny  to  me.  And  it  won't  be  to  Philip,  or  to 
mother." 

That  was  very  true.  Mrs.  Comstock  had  been  slightly 
prepared  for  stringent  action  of  some  kind,  by  what 
Elnora  had  said.  The  mother  instantly  had  guessed 
where  the  girl  would  go,  but  nothing  was  said  to  Philip. 
That  would  have  been  to  invalidate  Elnora's  test  in  the 
beginning,  and  Mrs.  Comstock  knew  her  child  well 
enough  to  know  that  she  never  would  marry  Ammon 
unless  she  felt  it  right  that  she  should.  The  only  way  to 
know  was  to  find  out,  and  Elnora  had  gone  to  seek  the 
information.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but  wait  until 
she  came  back,  and  her  mother  was  not  in  the  least  un- 
easy but  that  the  girl  would  return  brave  and  self-reliant, 
as  always. 

Philip  Ammon  hurried  back  to  the  Limberlost,  strong 
in  the  hope  that  now  he  might  take  Elnora  into  his  arms 
and  receive  her  promise  to  become  his  wife.  His  first 
shock  of  disappointment  came  when  he  found  her  gone. 
In  talking  with  Mrs.  Comstock  he  learned  that  Edith  Carr 
had  made  an  opportunity  to  speak  with  Elnora  alone. 
He  hastened  down  the  road  to  meet  her,  coming  back  an 
agitated  man.  Then  search  revealed  the  notes.  His 
read: 


434  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Dear  Philip: 

I  find  that  I  am  never  going  to  be  able  to  answer  your  question  of 
this  afternoon  fairly  to  all  of  us,  when  you  are  with  me.  So  I  am  going 
away  a  few  weeks  to  think  over  matters  alone.  I  shall  not  tell  you, 
or  even  mother,  where  I  am  going,  but  I  shall  be  safe,  well  cared  for, 
and  happy.  Please  go  back  home  and  live  among  your  friends,  just 
as  you  always  have  done,  and  on  or  before  the  first  of  September  I 
will  write  you  where  I  am,  and  what  I  have  decided.  Please  do  not 
blame  Edith  Carr  for  this,  and  do  not  avoid  her.  I  hope  you  will  call 
on  her  and  be  friends.  I  think  she  is  very  sorry,  and  covets  your 
friendship  at  least.     Until  September,  then,  as  ever, 

Elnora. 

Mrs.  Comstock's  note  was  much  the  same.  Ammon 
was  ill  with  disappointment.  In  the  arbour  he  laid  his 
head  on  the  table,  among  the  implements  of  Elnora's 
loved  work,  and  gulped  down  dry  sobs  he  could  not  re- 
strain. Mrs.  Comstock  never  had  liked  him  so  well. 
Her  hand  involuntarily  crept  toward  his  dark  head,  then 
she  drew  back.  Elnora  would  not  want  her  to  do  any- 
thing whatever  to  influence  him. 

"What  am  I  going  to  do  to  convince  Edith  Carr  that 
I  do  not  love  her,  and  Elnora  that  I  am  hers?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"I  guess  you  have  to  figure  that  out  yourself,"  said 
Mrs.  Comstock.  "I'd  be  glad  to  help  you  if  I  could,  but 
it  seems  to  be  up  to  you." 

Ammon  sat  a  long  time  in  silence.  "Well,  I  have  de- 
cided!" he  said  abruptly.  "Are  you  perfectly  sure  El- 
nora had  plenty  of  money  and  a  safe  place  to  go?" 

"Absolutely!"  answered  Mrs.  Comstock.  "She  has 
been  taking  care  of  herself  ever  since  she  was  born,,  and 


ELNORA  REACHES  A  DECISION         435 

she  always  has  come  out  all  right,  so  far;  I'll  stake  all 
I'm  worth  on  it  that  she  always  will.  I  don't  know  where 
she  is,  but  I'm  not  going  to  worry  about  her  safety." 

"I  can't  help  worrying!"  cried  Philip.  "I  can  think 
of  fifty  things  that  may  happen  to  her  when  she  thinks  she 
is  safe.  This  is  distracting!  First,  I  am  going  to  run  up 
to  see  my  father.  Then,  I'll  let  you  know  what  we  have 
decided.     Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you  ? " 

"Nothing!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock. 

But  the  desire  to  do  something  for  him  was  so  strong 
with  her  she  scarcely  could  keep  her  lips  closed  or  her 
hands  quiet.'  She  longed  to  tell  him  what  Edith  Carr  had 
said,  how  it  had  affected  Elnora,  and  to  comfort  him  as 
she  felt  she  could.  But  loyalty  to  the  girl  held  her.  If 
Elnora  truly  felt  that  she  could  not  decide  until  Edith 
Carr  was  convinced,  then  Edith  Carr  would  have1  to  yield 
or  triumph.  It  rested  with  Philip.  So  Mrs.  Comstock 
kept  silent,  while  Philip  took  the  night  limited,  a  bitterly 
disappointed  man. 

By  noon  the  next  day  he  was  in  his  father's  offices. 
They  had  a  long  conference,  but  did  not  arrive  at  much 
until  the  elder  Ammon  suggested  sending  for  Polly. 
Anything  that  might  have  happened  could  be  explained 
after  Polly  had  told  of  the  private  conference  between 
Edith  and  Elnora. 

"Talk  about  lovely  woman!"  cried  Philip  Ammon 
bitterly.  "One  would  think  that  after  such  a  dose  as 
Edith  gave  me,  she  would  be  satisfied  to  let  me  go  my  way; 
but  no!     Not  caring  for  me  enough  herself  to  save  me 


436  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

from  public  disgrace,  she  must  now  pursue  me  to  keep 
any  other  woman  from  loving  me.  I  call  that  too  much! 
I  am  going  to  see  her,  and  I  want  you  to  go  with  me, 
father." 

"Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Ammon,  "I  will  go." 

When  Edith  Carr  came  into  her  reception  room  that 
afternoon,  gowned  for  conquest,  she  expected  only  Philip, 
and  him  penitent.  She  came  hurrying  toward  him,  smil- 
ing, radiant,  ready  to  use  every  allurement  she  possessed, 
and  paused  in  dismay  when  she  saw  his  cold  face  and  his 
father. 

"Why,  Phil!"  she  cried.  "When  did  you  come  home?" 

"I  am  not  at  home,"  answered  Philip.  "I  merely  ran 
up  to  see  my  father  on  business,  and  to  inquire  of  you 
what  it  was  you  said  to  Miss  Comstock  yesterday  that 
caused  her  to  disappear  before  I  could  get  back  to  the 
Limberlost." 

"Miss  Comstock  disappear!  Impossible!"  cried  Edith 
Carr.     "Where  could  she  go?" 

"  I  thought  perhaps  you  could  answer  that,  since  it  was 
through  you  that  she  went." 

"Phil,  I  haven't  the  faintest  idea  where  she  is,"  said 
the  girl  gently. 

"But  you  know  perfectly  why  she  went!  Kindly  tell 
me  that." 

"Let  me  see  you  alone,  and  I  will." 

"Here  and  now,  or  not  at  all." 

"Phil!" 

"What  did  you  say  to  the  girl  I  love?" 


ELNORA  REACHES  A  DECISION         437 

Then  Edith  Carr  stretched  out  her  arms. 

"Phil,  I  am  the  girl  you  love!"  she  cried.  "All  your 
life  you  have  loved  me.  Surely  it  cannot  be  all  gone  in  a 
few  weeks  of  misunderstanding.  I  was  jealous  of  her!  I 
did  not  want  you  to  leave  me  an  instant  that  night  for 
any  other  girl  living.  That  was  the  moth  I  was  repre- 
senting. Every  one  knew  it !  I  wanted  you  to  bring  it  to 
me.  When  you  did  not,  I  knew  instantly  it  had  been  for 
her  that  you  worked  last  summer,  she  who  suggested  my 
dress,  she  who  had  power  to  take  you  from  me,  when  I 
wanted  you  most.  The  thought  drove  me  mad,  and  I 
said  and  did  those  insane  things.  Phil,  I  beg  your  par- 
don! I  ask  your  forgiveness.  Yesterday  she  said  that 
you  had  told  her  of  me  at  once.  She  vowed  both  of  you 
had  been  true  to  me  —  and,  Phil,  I  couldn't  look  into  her 
eyes  and  not  see  that  it  was  the  truth.  Oh,  Phil,  if  you 
understood  how  I  have  suffered  you  would  forgive  me. 
Phil,  I  never  knew  how  much  I  cared  for  you!  I  will  do 
anything  —  anything!" 

"Then  tell  me  what  you  said  toElnora  yesterday  that 
drove  her,  alone  and  friendless,  into  the  night,  heaven 
knows  where!" 

"You  have  no  thought  for  any  one  save  her?" 

"Yes,"  said  Ammon.  "I  have.  Because  I  once  loved 
you,  and  believed  in  you,  my  heart  ached  for  you.  I  will 
gladly  forgive  anything  you  ask.  I  will  do  anything  you 
want,  save  resume  our  old  relations.  That  is  impossible. 
It  is  hopeless  and  useless  to  ask  it." 

"You  truly  mean  that!" 


438  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Yes." 

"Then  find  out  from  her  what  I  said!" 

"Come,  father,"  said  Philip  rising. 

"You  were  going  to  show  Edith  Miss  Comstock's  let- 
ter," suggested  Mr.  Ammon. 

"I  have  not  the  slightest  interest  in  Miss  Comstock's 
letter,"  said  Edith  Carr. 

"You  are  not  even  interested  in  the  fact  that  she  says 
you  are  not  responsible  for  her  going,  and  that  I  am  to  call 
on  you  and  be  friends  with  you?" 

"That  is  interesting,  indeed!"  sneered  Miss  Carr. 

She  took  the  letter,  read  and  returned  it. 

"She  has  done  what  she  could  for  my  cause,  it  seems," 
she  said  coldly.  "How  very  generous  of  her!  Do  you 
propose  calling  out  Pinkertons  and  instituting  a  general 
search?" 

"No,"  replied  Ammon.  "I  simply  propose  to  go  back 
to  the  Limberlost  and  live  with  her  mother,  until  Elnora 
becomes  convinced  that  I  am  not  courting  you,  and  never 
will  be.  Then,  perhaps,  she  will  come  home  to  us.  Good- 
bye.   Good  luck  to  you  always!" 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

Wherein  Edith   Carr  Wages  a  Battle,  and  Hart 
Henderson  Stands  Guard 

Many  people  looked,  a  few  followed,  as  Edith  Carr 
slowly  came  down  the  main  street  of  Mackinac,  pausing 
here  and  there  to  note  the  glow  of  colour  in  one  small 
booth  after  another,  overflowing  with  gay  curios.  That 
street  of  packed  white  sand,  winding  with  the  curves  of 
the  shore,  outlined  with  brilliant  shops,  and  thronged 
with  laughing,  bareheaded  people  in  outing  costumes 
was  a  picturesque  and  fascinating  sight.  Thousands 
annually  made  long  journeys  and  paid  exorbitant  prices 
to  take  part  in  that  pageant. 

As  Edith  Carr  slowly  progressed,  she  was  the  most  dis- 
tinguished figure  of  the  old  street.  Her  clinging  black 
gown  was  sufficiently  elaborate  for  a  dinner  dress.  On 
her  head  was  a  large,  wide,  drooping-brimmed  black  hat, 
with  immense  floating  black  plumes,  while  on  the  brim, 
and  among  the  laces  on  her  breast,  glowed  velvety, 
deep  red  roses.  Some  way  these  made  up  for  the  lack 
of  colour  in  her  cheeks  and  lips,  and  while  her  eyes 
seemed  unnaturally  bright,  to  a  close  observer  they 
looked    weary.     Despite  the   effort  she    made   to  move 

439 


44Q  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

lightly  she  was  very  tired,  and  dragged  her  heavy  feet 
with  an  effort. 

She  turned  at  the  little  street  leading  down  to  the  dock, 
and  went  out  to  meet  the  big  lake  steamer  ploughing  up 
the  Straits  from  Chicago.  Past  the  landing  place,  on  to 
the  very  end  of  the  pier  she  went,  then  sat  down,  leaned 
against  a  dock  support  and  closed  her  tired  eyes.  When 
the  steamer  came  very  near  she  languidly  watched 
the  people  lining  the  railing.  Instantly  she  marked 
one  lean  anxious  face  turned  toward  hers,  and  with  a 
throb  of  pity  she  lifted  a  hand  and  waved  to  Hart  Hend- 
erson. He  was  the  first  man  off  the  boat,  coming  to  her 
instantly.  She  spread  her  trailing  skirts  and  motioned 
him  to  sit  beside  her.  Silently  they  looked  across  the 
softly  lapping  water.  At  last  she  forced  herself  to  speak 
to  him. 

"Did  you  have  a  successful  trip?" 

"I  accomplished  my  purpose." 

"You  didn't  lose  any  time  getting  back." 

"I  never  do  when  I  am  coming  to  you." 

"Do  you  want  to  go  to  the  cottage  for  anything?" 

"No." 

"Then  let  us  sit  here  and  wait  until  the  Petosky  steamer 
comes  in.  I  like  to  watch  the  boats.  Sometimes  I  study 
the  faces,  if  I  am  not  too  tired." 

"Have  you  seen  any  new  types  to-day?" 

She  shook  her  head.  "This  has  not  been  an  easy  day, 
Hart." 

"And  it's  going  to  be  worse,"  said  Henderson  bitterly. 


EDITH  CARR  WAGES  A  BATTLE         441 

"There's  no  use  putting  it  off.  Edith,  I  saw  some  one 
to-day." 

"You  should  have  seen  thousands,"  she  said  lightly. 

"  I  did.  But  of  them  all,  only  one  will  be  of  interest  to 
you." 

"Man  or  woman?" 

"Man." 

"Where?" 

"Lake  Shore  private  hospital." 

"An  accident?" 

"No.     Nervous  and  physical  breakdown.'" 

"Phil  said  he  was  going  back  to  the  Limberlost." 

"He  went.  He  was  there  three  weeks,  but  the  strain 
broke  him.  He  has  an  old  letter  in  his  hands  that  he  has 
handled  until  it  is  ragged.  He  held  it  up  to  me  and  said, 
'You  can  see  for  yourself  that  she  says  she  will  be  well  and 
happy,  but  we  can't  know  until  we  see  her  again,  and  that 
may  never  be.  She  may  have  gone  too  near  that  place 
her  father  went  down,  some  of  that  Limberlost  gang  may 
have  found  her  in  the  forest,  she  may  lie  dead  in  some  city 
morgue  this  instant,  waiting  for  me  to  find  her  body." 

"Hart!     For  pity  sake  stop!" 

"I  can't,"  cried  Henderson  desperately.  "I  am  forced 
to  tell  you.  They  are  fighting  brain  fever.  He  did  go 
back  to  the  swamp  and  he  prowled  it  night  and  day.  The 
days  down  there  are  hot  now,  and  the  nights  wet  with  dew 
and  cold.  He  paid  no  attention  and  forgot  his  food.  A 
fever  started  and  his  uncle  brought  him  home.  They've 
never  had  a  word  from  her,  or  found  a  trace  of  her.     Mrs, 


442  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

Comstock  thought  she  had  gone  to  O'More's  at  Grand 
Rapids,  so  when  Phil  got  sick  she  telegraphed  there. 
They  had  been  gone  all  summer,  so  her  mother  is  as 
anxious  as  Phil." 

"The  O'Mores  are  here,"  said  Edith.  "I  haven't  seen 
any  of  them,  because  I  haven't  gone  out  much  in  the  few 
days  since  we  came,  but  this  is  their  summer  home." 

"Edith,  they  say  at  the  hospital  that  it  will  take  careful 
nursing  to  save  Phil.  He  is  surrounded  by  stacks  of  maps 
and  railroad  guides.  He  is  trying  to  frame  up  a  plan  to 
set  the  entire  detective  agency  of  the  country  to  work. 
He  says  he  will  stay  there  just  two  days  longer.  The 
doctors  say  he  will  kill  himself  when  he  goes.  He  is  a 
sick  man,  Edith.  His  hands  are  burning  and  shaky  and 
his  breath  was  hot  against  my  face." 

"Why  are  you  telling  me?"  It  was  a  cry  of  acute 
anguish. 

"He  thinks  you  know  where  she  is." 

"I  do  not!  I  haven't  an  idea!  I  never  dreamed  she 
would  go  away  when  she  had  him  in  her  hand!  I  should 
not  have  done  it!" 

"He  said  it  was  something  you  said  to  her  that  made 
her  go." 

"That  may  be,  but  it  don't  prove  that  I  know  where 
she  went." 

Henderson  looked  across  the  water  and  suffered  keenly. 

At  last  he  turned  to  Edith  and  laid  a  firm,  strong  hand 
over  hers. 

"Edith,"  he  said,  "do  you  realize  how  serious  this  is?" 


EDITH  CARR  WAGES  A  BATTLE         443 

"I  suppose  I  do." 

"Do  you  want  as  fine  a  fellow  as  Phil  driven  any  further? 
If  he  leaves  that  hospital  now,  and  goes  out  to  the  ex- 
posure and  anxiety  of  a  search  for  her,  there  will  be  a 
tragedy  that  no  after  regrets  can  avert.  Edith,  what  did 
you  say  to  Miss  Comstock  that  made  her  run  away  from 
Phil?" 

The  girl  turned  her  face  from  him  and  sat  still,  but  the 
man  gripping  her  hands  and  waiting  in  agony  could  see 
that  she  was  shaken  by  the  jolting  of  the  heart  in  her 
breast. 

"Edith,  what  did  you  say?" 

"What  difference  can  it  make?" 

"It  might  furnish  some  clue  to  her  action." 

"It  could  not  possibly." 

"Phil  thinks  so.  He  has  thought  so  until  his  brain  is 
worn  enough  to  give  way.     Tell  me,  Edith!" 

"  I  told  her  Phil  was  mine !  That  if  he  were  away  from 
her  an  hour  and  back  in  my  presence,  he  would  be  to  me 
as  he  always  had  been." 

"Edith,  did  you  believe  that?" 

"I  would  have  staked  my  life,  my  soul  on  it!" 

"Do  you  believe  it  now?" 

There  was  no  answer.  Henderson  took  her  other  hand 
and  gripping  both  of  them  firmly  he  said  softly,  "Don't 
mind  me,  dear.  I  don't  count!  I'm  just  old  Hart!  You 
can  tell  me  anything.     Do  you  still  believe  that?" 

The  beautiful  head  barely  moved  in  negation.  Hen- 
derson gathered  both  her  hands  in  one  of  his  and  stretched 


444  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

an  arm  across  her  shoulders  to  the  post  to  support  her. 
She  dragged  her  hands  from  him  and  twisted  them  to- 
gether. 

"Oh,  Hart!"  she  cried.  "It  isn't  fair!  There  is  a 
limit!  I  have  suffered  my  share.  Can't  you  see?  Can't 
you  understand?" 

"Yes,"  he  panted.  "Yes,  my  girl!  Tell  me  just 
this  one  thing  yet,  and  I'll  cheerfully  kill  any  one  who  an- 
noys you  further.     Tell  me,  Edith!" 

Then  she  lifted  her  great,  dull,  pain-filled  eyes  to  his  and 
cried,  "No!  I  do  not  believe  it  now!  I  know  it  is  not 
true!  I  killed  his  love  for  me.  It  is  dead  and  gone  for- 
ever. Nothing  will  revive  it!  Nothing  in  all  this  world. 
And  that  is  not  all.  I  did  not  know  how  to  touch  the 
depths  of  his  nature.  I  never  developed  in  him  those 
things  he  was  made  to  enjoy.  He  admired  me.  He 
was  proud  to  be  with  me.  He  thought,  and  I  thought, 
that  he  worshipped  me;  but  I  know  now  that  he  never  did 
care  for  me  as  he  cares  for  her.  Never!  I  can  see  it!  I 
planned  to  lead  society,  to  make  his  home  a  place  sought 
for  my  beauty  and  popularity.  She  plans  to  further  his 
political  ambitions,  to  make  him  comfortable  physically, 
to  stimulate  his  intellect,  to  bear  him  a  brood  of  red-faced 
children.  He  likes  her  and  her  plans  as  he  never  did  me 
and  mine.     Oh,  my  soul!     Now,  are  you  satisfied ? " 

She  dropped  back  against  his  arm  exhausted.  Hen- 
derson held  her  and  learned  what  suffering  truly  means. 
He  fanned  her  with  his  hat,  rubbed  her  cold  hands  and  mur- 
mured broken,  incoherent  things.     By  and  by  great  slow 


EDITH  CARR  WAGES  A  BATTLE         445 

tears  slipped  from  under  her  closed  lids,  but  when  she 
opened  them  her  eyes  were  dull  and  hard. 

"What  a  rag  one  is  when  the  last  secret  of  the  soul  is 
torn  out  and  laid  bare!"  she  cried. 

Henderson  thrust  his  handkerchief  into  her  fingers  and 
whispered,  "Edith,  the  boat  has  been  creeping  up.  It's 
very  near.  Maybe  some  of  our  crowd  are  on  it.  Hadn't 
we  better  get  away  from  here  before  it  lands?" 

"If  I  can  walk,"  she  said.  "Oh,  I  am  so  dead  tired, 
Hart!" 

"Yes,  dear,"  said  Henderson  soothingly.  "Just  try  to 
get  past  the  landing  before  the  boat  anchors.  If  I  only 
dared  carry  you ! " 

They  struggled  through  the  waiting  masses,  but  directly 
opposite  the  landing  there  was  a  backward  movement  in 
the  happy,  laughing  crowd,  the  gangplank  came  down 
with  a  slam,  and  people  began  hurrying  from  the  boat. 
Crowded  against  the  fish  house  on  the  dock,  Henderson 
could  only  advance  a  few  steps  at  a  time.  He  was  strain- 
ing every  nerve  to  protect  and  assist  Edith.  He  saw  no 
one  he  recognized  near  them,  so  he  slipped  his  arm  across 
her  back  to  help  support  her.  He  felt  her  stiffen  against 
him  and  catch  her  breath.  At  the  same  instant,  the 
clearest,  sweetest  male  voice  he  ever  had  heard  called, 
"Be  careful  there,  little  man!" 

Henderson  shot  a  swift  glance  toward  the  boat.  Ter- 
rence  O'More  had  just  stepped  from  the  gangplank,  es- 
corting a  little  daughter,  so  like  him,  it  was  comical. 
There  followed  a  picture  not  easy  to  describe.     The  Angel 


446  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

in  the  full  flower  of  her  beauty,  richly  dressed,  a  laugh  on 
her  cameo  face,  the  setting  sun  glinting  on  her  gold  hair, 
escorted  by  her  eldest  son,  who  held  her  hand  tightly  and 
carefully  watched  her  steps.  Next  came  Elnora,  dressed 
with  equal  richness,  a  trifle  taller  and  slenderer,  almost 
the  same  type  of  colouring,  but  with  different  eyes  and 
hair,  facial  lines  and  expression.  She  was  led  by  the 
second  O'More  boy,  who  convulsed  the  crowd  by  crying 
"Tareful,  Elnora!     Don't  'oo  be  'teppin'  in  de  water!" 

People  surged  around  them,  purposely  closing  them  in. 

"What  lovely  women!  Who  are  they?  It's  the 
O'Mores.  The  lightest  one  is  his  wife.  Is  that  her 
sister?  No,  it  is  his!  They  say  he  has  a  title  in  Eng- 
land." 

Whispers  ran  fast  and  audible.  As  the  crowd  pressed 
around  the  party  an  opening  was  left  beside  the  fish  sheds. 
Edith  ran  down  the  dock.  Henderson  sprang  after  her, 
catching  her  arm  and  assisting  her  to  the  street. 

"Up  the  shore!  This  way!"  she  panted.  "Every  one 
will  go  to  dinner  the  first  thing  they  do." 

They  left  the  street  and  started  around  the  beach,  but 
Edith  was  breathless  from  running,  while  the  yielding 
sand  made  hard  walking. 

"Help  me!"  she  cried  clinging  to  Henderson.  He  put 
his  arm  around  her,  almost  carrying  her  out  of  sight  into 
a  little  cove  walled  by  high  rocks  at  the  back,  while  there 
was  a  clean  floor  of  white  sand,  and  logs  washed  from  the 
lake  for  seats.  He  found  one  of  these  with  a  back  rest, 
and  hurrying  down  to  the  water  he  soaked  his  handker- 


EDITH  CARR  WAGES  A  BATTLE         447 

chief  and  carried  it  to  her.  She  passed  it  across  her  lips, 
over  her  eyes,  and  then  pressed  the  palms  of  her  hands 
upon  it.  Henderson  removed  the  heavy  hat,  fanned  her 
with  his,  and  wet  the  handkerchief  again. 

"Hart,  what  makes  you?"  she  said  wearily.  "My 
mother  doesn't  care.  She  says  this  is  good  for  me.  Do 
you  think  this  is  good  for  me,  Hart?" 

"Edith,  you  know  I  would  give  my  life  if  I  could  save 
you  this,"  he  said,  and  could  not  speak  further. 

She  leaned  against  him,  closed  her  eyes  and  lay  silent 
so  long  the  man  fell  into  panic. 

"Edith,  you  are  not  unconscious?"  he  whispered, 
touching  her. 

"No.     Just  resting.     Please  don't  leave  me." 

He  held  her  carefully,  softly  fanning  her.  She 
was  suffering  almost  more  than  either  of  them  could 
bear. 

"I  wish  your  boat  was  here,"  she  said  at  last.  "I  want 
to  sail  fast  with  the  wind  in  my  face." 

"There  is  no  wind.  I  can  get  my  motor  around  in  a 
few  minutes." 

"Then  get  it." 

"Lie  on  the  sand.  I  can  'phone  from  the  first  booth. 
It  won't  take  but  a  little  while." 

Edith  lay  on  the  white  sand,  and  Henderson  covered 
her  face  with  her  hat.  Then  he  ran  to  the  nearest  booth 
and  talked  imperatively.  Presently  he  was  back  bringing 
a  hot  drink  that  was  stimulating.  Shortly  the  motor 
ran  close  to  the  beach  and  stopped.     Henderson's  ser- 


448  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

vant  brought  a  row-boat  ashore  and  took  them  to  the 
launch.  It  was  filled  with  cushions  and  wraps.  Hen- 
derson made  a  couch  and  soon,  warmly  covered,  Edith 
sped  out  over  the  water  in  search  of  peace. 

Hour  after  hour  the  boat  ran  up  and  down  the  shore. 
The  moon  arose  and  the  night  air  grew  very  chilly.  Hen- 
derson put  on  an  overcoat  and  piled  more  covers  on 
Edith. 

"You  must  take  me  home,"  she  said  at  last.  "The 
folks  will  be  uneasy." 

He  was  compelled  to  take  her  to  the  cottage  with  the 
battle  still  raging.  He  went  back  early  the  next  morning, 
but  already  she  had  wandered  out  over  the  island.  In- 
stinctively Henderson  felt  that  the  shore  would  attract 
her.  There  was  something  in  the  tumult  of  rough  little 
Huron's  waves  that  called  to  him.  It  was  there  he  found 
her,  crouching  so  close  the  water  the  foam  was  dampening 
her  skirts. 

"May  I  stay?"  he  asked. 

"I  have  been  hoping  you  would  come,"  she  answered. 
"It's  bad  enough  when  you  are  here,  but  it  is  a  little 
easier  than  bearing  it  alone." 

"Thank  God  for  that!"  said  Henderson  sitting  beside 
her.     "Shall  I  talk  to  you?" 

She  shook  her  head.  So  they  sat  by  the  hour.  At 
last  she  spoke. 

"Of  course,  you  know  there  is  something  I  have  got  to 
do,  Hart!" 

"You  have  not!"  cried  Henderson  violently.     "That's 


Edith,  what  did  you  say  to  Miss  Comstock  that  made 
her  run  away  from  Phil?'" 


EDITH  CARR  WAGES  A  BATTLE         449 

all  nonsense!  Give  me  just  one  word  of  permission. 
That  is  all  that  is  required  of  you." 

"'Required'?  You  grant,  then,  that  there  is  some- 
thing 'required'?" 

"One  word.     Nothing  more." 

"Did  you  ever  know  one  word  could  be  so  big,  so  black, 
so  desperately  bitter?     Oh,  Hart!" 

"No." 

"But  you  know  it  now,  Hart!" 

"Yes." 

"And  still  you  say  that  it  is  'required'?" 

Henderson  suffered  unspeakably.  He  twisted  and 
fumed  impotently.  At  last  he  said,  "If  you  had  seen  and 
heard  him,  Edith,  you,  too,  would  feel  that  it  is  '  required.' 
Remember " 

"No!  No!  No!"  she  cried.  "Don't  ask  me  to 
remember  even  the  least  of  my  pride  and  folly.  Let  me 
forget!" 

She  sat  silent  a  long  time. 

"Will  you  go  with  me?"  she  whispered. 

"Of  course." 

At  last  she  arose. 

"I  might  as  well  give  up  and  get  it  over,"  she  faltered. 

That  was  the  first  time  in  her  life  that  Edith  Carr 
ever  had  proposed  to  give  up  anything  she  wanted. 

"Help  me,  Hart!" 

Henderson  started  around  the  beach,  assisting  her  all 
he  could.     Finally  he  stopped. 

"Edith,  there  is  no  sense   in  this!     You  are  too  tired 


45©  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

to  go.  You  know  you  can  trust  me.  You  wait  in  any 
of  these  lovely  places  and  send  me.  You  will  be  safe,  and 
I'll  run.     One  word  is  all  that  is  necessary." 

"But  I've  got  to  say  that  word  myself,  Hart!" 

"Then  write  it,  and  let  me  carry  it.  The  message 
is  not  going  to  prove  who  went  to  the  office  and  sent 
it." 

"That  is  quite  true,"  she  said  dropping  wearily,  but 
she  made  no  movement  to  take  the  pen  and  paper  he 
offered. 

"Hart,  you  write  it,"  she  said  at  last. 

Henderson  turned  away  his  face.  He  gripped  the  pen, 
while  his  breath  sucked  between  his  dry  teeth. 

"Certainly!"  he  said  when  he  could  speak.  "Mack- 
inac, August  27,  1908.  Philip  Ammon,  Lake  Shore 
Hospital,  Chicago."  He  paused  with  suspended  pen  and 
glanced  at  Edith.  Her  white  lips  were  working,  but  no 
sound  came.  "Miss  Comstock  is  at  Terrence  O'More's, 
on  Mackinac  Island,"  prompted  Henderson. 

Edith  nodded. 

"Signed,  Henderson,"  continued  the  big  man. 

Edith  shook  her  head. 

"Say,  'She  is  well  and  happy,'  and  sign,  Edith  Carr!" 
she  panted. 

"Not  on  your  life!"  flashed  Henderson. 

"For  the  love  of  mercy,  Hart,  don't  make  this  any 
harder!  It  is  the  least  I  can  do,  and  it  takes  every  ounce 
of  strength  in  me  to  do  it." 

"Will  you  wait  for  me  here?"  he  asked. 


EDITH  CARR  WAGES  A  BATTLE  451 

She  nodded,  and,  pulling  his  hat  lower  over  his  eyes, 
Henderson  ran  around  the  shore.  In  less  than  an  hour 
he  was  back.  He  helped  her  a  little  farther  to  where  the 
Devil's  Kitchen  lay  cut  into  the  rocks;  it  furnished  places 
to  rest,  and  cool  water.  Before  long  his  man  came  with 
the  boat.  From  it  they  spread  blankets  on  the  sand  for 
her,  and  made  chafing-dish  tea.  She  tried  to  refuse  it, 
but  the  fragrance  overcame  her  and  she  drank  ravenously. 
Then  Henderson  cooked  several  dishes  and  spread  an 
appetizing  lunch.  She  was  young,  strong,  and  almost 
famished  for  food.  She  was  forced  to  eat.  That  made 
her  feel  a  world  better.  Then  Henderson  helped  her  into 
the  boat  and  ran  it  through  shady  coves  of  the  shore, 
where  there  were  refreshing  breezes.  When  she  fell  asleep 
the  girl  did  not  know,  but  the  man  did.  Sadly  in  need  of 
rest  himself,  he  ran  that  boat  for  five  hours  through  quiet 
bays,  away  from  noisy  parties,  and  where  the  shade  was 
cool  and  deep.  When  she  woke  he  took  her  home,  and 
as  they  went  she  knew  that  she  had  been  mistaken.  She 
would  not  die.  Her  heart  was  not  even  broken.  She  had 
suffered  horribly;  she  would  suffer  more;  but  eventually 
the  pain  must  wear  out.  Into  her  head  crept  a  few  lines 
of  an  old  opera  — 

"Hearts  do  not  break,  they  sting  and  ache, 
For  old  love's  sake,  but  do  not  die, 
As  witnesseth  the  living  I." 

That  evening  they  were  sailing  down  the  Straits  before 
a  stiff  breeze  and  Henderson  was  busy  with  the  tiller  when 


452  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

she  said  to  him,  "Hart,  I  want  you  to  do  something  more 
for  me." 

"You  have  only  to  tell  me,"  he  said. 

"Have  I  only  to  tell  you,  Hart?"  she  asked  softly. 

"Haven't  you  learned  that  yet,  Edith?" 

"I  want  you  to  go  away." 

"Very  well,"  he  said  quietly,  but  his  face  whitened 
visibly. 

"You  say  that  as  if  you  had  been  expecting  it." 

"I  have.  I  knew  from  the  beginning  that  when  this 
was  over  you  would  dislike  me  for  having  seen  you  suffer. 
I  have  grown  my  Gethsemane  in  a  full  realization  of  what 
was  coming,  but  I  could  not  leave  you,  Edith,  so  long  as 
it  seemed  to  me  that  I  was  serving  you.  Does  it  make 
any  difference  to  you  where  I  go?" 

"I  want  you  where  you  will  be  loved,  and  good  care 
taken  of  you." 

"Thank  you!"  said  Henderson,  smiling  grimly.  "Have 
you  any  idea  where  such  a  spot  might  be  found?" 

"It  should  be  with  your  sister  at  Los  Angeles.  She  al- 
ways has  seemed  very  fond  of  you." 

"That  is  quite  true,"  said  Henderson,  his  eyes  bright- 
ening a  little.     "I  will  go  to  her.     When  shall  I  start?" 

"At  once." 

Henderson  began  to  tack  for  the  landing,  but  his  hands 
shook  until  he  scarcely  could  manage  the  boat.  Edith 
Carr  sat  watching  him  indifferently,  but  her  heart  was 
throbbing  painfully.  "Why  is  there  so  much  suffering 
in  the  world?"  she  kept  whispering  to  herself.     Inside 


EDITH  CARR  WAGES  A  BATTLE         453 

her  door  Henderson  took  her  by  the  shoulders  almost 
roughly. 

"  For  how  long  is  this,  Edith,  and  how  are  you  going  to 
say  good-bye  to  me?" 

She  raised  tired,  pain-filled  eyes  to  his. 

"I  don't  know  for  how  long  it  is,"  she  said.  "It  seems 
now  as  if  it  had  been  a  slow  eternity.  I  wish  to  my  soul 
that  God  would  be  merciful  to  me  and  make  something 
'snap'  in  my  heart,  as  there  did  in  Phil's,  that  would  give 
me  rest.  I  don't  know  for  how  long,  but  I'm  perfectly 
shameless  with  you,  Hart.  If  peace  ever  comes  and  I 
want  you,  I  won't  wait  for  you  to  find  it  out  yourself,  I'll 
cable,  Marconigraph,  anything.  As  for  how  I  say  good- 
bye; any  way  you  please.  I  don't  care  in  the  least  what 
happens  to  me." 

Henderson  studied  her  intently. 

"In  that  case,  we  will  shake  hands,"  he  said.  "Good- 
bye, Edith.  Don't  forget  that  every  hour  I  am  thinking 
of  you  and  hoping  all  good  things  will  come  to  you  soon." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

Wherein    Philip    Finds    Elnora,    and    Edith    Carr 
Offers  a  Yellow  Emperor 

"Oh,  I  need  my  own  violin,"  cried  Elnora.  "This  one 
may  be  a  thousand  times  more  expensive,  and  much  older 
than  mine,  but  it  wasn't  inspired  and  taught  to  sing  by  a 
man  who  knew  how.  It  don't  know  *  beans,'  as  mother 
would  say,  about  the  Limberlost." 

The  guests  in  the  O'More  music  room  laughed  appre- 
ciatively. 

"Why  don't  you  write  your  mother  to  come  for  a  visit 
and  bring  yours?"  suggested  Freckles. 

"I  did  that  three  days  ago,"  acknowledged  Elnora. 
"I  am  half  expecting  her  on  the  noon  boat.  That  is  one 
reason  why  this  violin  gets  worse  every  minute.  There 
is  nothing  at  all  the  matter  with  me." 

"  Splendid ! "  cried  the  Angel.  "  I've  begged  and  begged 
her  to  do  it.  I  know  how  anxious  these  mothers  become. 
When  did  you  send  ?  What  made  you  ?  Why  didn't  you 
tell  me?" 

"'When?'  Three  days  ago.  'What  made  me?' 
You.  'Why  didn't  I  tell  you?'  Because  I  can't  be  sure 
in  the  least  that  she  will  come.     Mother  is  the  most  in- 

454 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  455 

dividual  person.  She  never  does  what  every  one  expects 
she  will.  She  may  not  come,  and  I  didn't  want  you  to  be 
disappointed. 

"How  did  I  make  you?"  asked  the  Angel. 

"Loving  Alice.  It  made  me  realize  that  if  you  cared 
for  your  girl  like  that,  with  Mr.  O'More  and  three  other 
children,  possibly  my  mother,  with  no  one,  might  like  to 
see  me.  I  know  good  and  plenty  I  want  to  see  her,  and 
you  had  told  me  to  so  often,  I  just  sent  for  her.  Oh,  I  do 
hope  she  comes !     I  want  her  to  see  this  lovely  place." 

"I  have  been  wondering  what  you  thought  of  Mack- 
inac," said  Freckles. 

"Oh,  it  is  a  perfect  picture,  all  of  it!  I  should  like  to 
hang  it  on  the  wall,  so  I  could  see  it  whenever  I  wanted  to; 
but  it  isn't  real,  of  course;  it's  nothing  but  a  picture." 

"These  people  won't  agree  with  you,"  smiled  Freckles. 

"That  isn't  necessary,"  retorted  Elnora.  "They  know 
this,  and  they  love  it;  but  you  and  I  are  acquainted  with 
something  different.  The  Limberlost  is  life.  Here  it  is 
a  carefully  kept  park.  You  motor,  sail,  and  golf,  all  so 
secure  and  fine.  But  what  I  like  is  the  excitement  of 
choosing  a  path  carefully,  in  the  fear  that  the  quagmire 
may  reach  out  and  suck  me  down;  to  go  into  the  swamp 
naked-handed  and  wrest  from  it  treasures  that  bring  me 
books  and  clothing,  and  I  like  enough  of  a  fight  for  things 
that  I  always  remember  how  I  get  them.  I  even  enjoy 
seeing  a  canny  old  vulture  eying  me  as  if  it  were  saying, 
'Ware  the  sting  of  the  rattler,  lest  I  pick  your  bones  as  I 
did  old  Limber's.'     I  like  sufficient  danger  to  put   an 


456  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

edge  on  things.  This  is  all  so  tame.  I  should  have 
loved  it  when  all  the  homes  were  cabins,  and  watchers  for 
the  stealthy  Indian  canoes  patrolled  the  shores.  You  - 
wait  until  mother  comes,  and  if  my  violin  isn't  angry  with 
me  for  leaving  it,  to-night  we  shall  sing  you  the  Song  of  the 
Limberlost.  You  shall  hear  the  big  gold  bees  over  the 
red,  yellow,  and  purple  flowers,  bird  song,  wind  talk,  and 
the  whispers  of  Sleepy  Snake  Creek,  as  it  goes  past  you. 
You  will  know!"     Elnora  turned  to  Freckles. 

He  nodded.  "Who  better?"  he  asked.  "This  is  se- 
cure while  the  children  are  so  small,  but  when  they  get 
larger,  we  are  going  farther  north,  into  real  forest,  where 
they  can  learn  self-reliance  and  develop  backbone." 

Elnora  laid  away  the  violin.  "Come  along,  children," 
she  said.  "We  must  get  at  that  backbone  business  at 
once.     Let's  race  to  the  playhouse." 

With  the  brood  at  her  heels  Elnora  ran,  and  for  an  hour 
lively  sounds  stole  from  the  remaining  spot  of  forest  on  the 
island,  which  lay  beside  the  O'More  cottage.  Then  Terry 
went  to  the  playroom  to  bring  Alice  her  doll.  He  came 
racing  back,  dragging  it  by  one  leg,  and  crying,  "There's 
company!  Some  one  has  come  that  mamma  and  papa  are 
just  tearing  down  the  house  over.  I  saw  through  the 
window." 

"It  could  not  be  my  mother,  yet,"  mused  Elnora. 
"Her  boat  is  not  due  until  twelve.  Terry,  give  Alice 
that  doll " 

"It's  a  man-person,  and  I  don't  know  him,  but  my 
father  is  shaking  his  hand  right  straight  along,  and  my 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  457 

mother  is  running  for  a  hot  drink  and  a  cushion.  It's 
a  kind  of  a  sick  person,  but  they  are  going  to  make  him 
well  right  away,  any  one  can  see  that!  This  is  the  best 
place.  I'll  go  tell  him  to  come  lie  on  the  pine  needles  in 
the  sun  and  watch  the  sails  go  by.     That  will  fix  him!" 

"Watch  sails  go  by,"  chanted  Little  Brother.  "'At 
fix  him!     Elnora  fix  him,  won't  you?" 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  answered  Elnora.  "What 
sort  of  a  looking  person  is  he,  Terry?" 

"A  beautiful  white  person;  but  my  father  is  going  to 
'colour  him  up,'  I  heard  him  say  so.  He's  just  out  of  the 
hospital,  and  he  is  a  bad  person,  'cause  he  ran  away  from 
the  doctors  and  made  them  awful  angry.  But  father  and 
mother  are  going  to  doctor  him  better.  I  didn't  know 
they  could  make  sick  people  well." 

"'Ey  do  anyfing!"  boasted  Little  Brother. 

Before  Elnora  missed  her,  Alice,  who  had  gone  to  in- 
vestigate, came  flying  across  the  shadows  and  through 
the  sunshine  waving  a  paper.  She  thrust  it  into  Elnora's 
hand. 

"There  is  a  man-person  —  a  stranger-person!"  she 
shouted.  "But  he  knows  you!  He  sent  you  that! 
You  are  to  be  the  doctor!  He  said  so!  Oh,  do  hurry! 
I  like  him  heaps!" 

Elnora  read  Edith  Carr's  telegram  to  Philip  Ammon 
and  understood  that  he  had  been  ill,  that  she  had  been 
located  by  Edith,  who  had  notified  him.  In  so  doing 
she  had  acknowledged  defeat.  At  last  Philip  was  free. 
Elnora  looked  up  with  a  radiant  face. 


458  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"I  like  him  'heaps'  myself!"  she  cried.  "Come  on, 
children,  we  will  go  tell  him  so." 

Terry  and  Alice  ran,  but  Elnora  had  to  suit  her  steps 
to  Little  Brother,  who  was  her  loyal  esquire,  and  would 
have  been   heartbroken  over  desertion  and  insulted  at 
being  carried.     He  was  rather  dragged,  but  he  was  arriv-  ! 
ing,  and  the  emergency  was  great,  he  could  see  that. 

"She's  coming!"  shouted  Alice. 

"She's  going  to  be  the  doctor!"  cried  Terry. 

"She  looked  just  like  she'd  seen  angels  when  she  read 
the  letter,"  explained  Alice. 

"She  likes  you  'heaps'!  She  said  so!"  danced  Terry. 
"Be  waiting!     Here  she  is!" 

Elnora  helped  Little  Brother  up  the  steps,  then  de- 
serted him  and  came  at  a  rush.  The  stranger-person 
stood  holding  out  trembling  arms. 

"Are  you  sure,  at  last,  runaway?"  asked  Philip  Am- 
nion. 

"Perfectly  sure!"  cried  Elnora. 

"Will  you  marry  me  now?" 

"This  instant!  That  is,  any  time  after  the  noon  boat 
comes  in." 

"Why  such  unnecessary  delay?"  demanded  Ammon. 

"It  is  almost  September,"  explained  Elnora.  "I  sent 
for  mother  three  days  ago.  We  must  wait  until  she  comes 
and  we  either  have  to  send  for  Uncle  Wesley  and  Aunt 
Margaret,  or  go  to  them.  I  couldn't  possibly  be  married 
properly  without  those  dear  people." 

"We  will  send,"  decided  Ammon.     "The  trip  will  be 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  459 

a  treat  for  them.  O'More,  would  you  get  off  a  message 
at  once?" 

Every  one  met  the  noon  boat.  They  went  in  the  motor 
because  Ammon  was  too  weak  to  walk  so  far.  As  soon 
as  people  could  be  distinguished  at  all  Elnora  and  Philip 
sighted  an  erect  figure,  with  a  head  like  a  snowdrift. 
When  the  gangplank  fell  the  first  person  across  it  was  a 
lean,  red-haired  boy  of  eleven,  carrying  a  violin  in  one 
hand  and  an  enormous  bouquet  of  yellow  marigolds  and 
purple  asters  in  the  other.  He  was  beaming  with  broad 
smiles  until  he  saw  Ammon.  Then  his  expression  changed. 

"Aw,  say!"  he  exclaimed  reproachfully.  "I  bet  you 
Aunt  Margaret  is  right.     He  is  going  to  be  your  beau!" 

Elnora  stooped  to  kiss  Billy  as  she  caught  her  mother. 

"There,  there!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock.  "Don't  knock 
my  headgear  into  my  eye.  I'm  not  sure  I've  got  either 
hat  or  hair.  The  wind  blew  like  bizzem  coming  up  the 
river." 

She  shook  out  her  skirts,  straightened  her  hat,  and  came 
forward  to  meet  Philip,  who  took  her  into  his  arms  and 
kissed  her  repeatedly.  Then  he  passed  her  along  to 
Freckles  and  the  Angel,  to  whom  her  greetings  were 
mingled  with  scolding  and  laughter  over  her  wind-blown 
hair. 

"No  doubt  I'm  a  precious  spectacle!"  she  said  to  the 
Angel.  "I  saw  your  pa  a  little  before  I  started,  and  he 
sent  you  a  note.  It's  in  my  satchel.  He  said  he  was 
coming  up  next  week.  What  a  lot  of  people  there  are  in 
this  world!     And  what  on  earth  are  all  of  them  laughing 


460  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

about?  Did  none  of  them  ever  hear  of  sickness,  or  sorrow, 
or  death?  Billy,  don't  you  go  to  playing  Indian  or  chas- 
ing woodchucks  until  you  get  out  of  those  clothes.  I 
promised  Margaret  I'd  bring  back  that  suit  good  as 
new." 

Then  the  O'More  children  came  crowding  to  meet 
Elnora's  mother. 

"Merry  Christmas!"  cried  Mrs.  Comstock,  gathering 
them  in.  "Got  everything  right  here  but  the  tree,  and 
there  seems  to  be  plenty  of  them  a  little  higher  up.  If 
this  wind  would  stiffen  just  enough  more  to  blow  away 
the  people,  so  one  could  see  this  place,  I  believe  it  would 
be  right  decent  looking." 

"See  here,"  whispered  Elnora  to  Ammon.  "You  must 
fix  this  with  Billy.     I  can't  have  his  trip  spoiled." 

"Now,  here  is  where  I  dust  the  rest  of  'em!"  compla- 
cently remarked  Mrs.  Comstock,  as  she  climbed  into 
the  motor  car  for  her  first  ride,  in  company  with  Ammon 
and  Little  Brother.  "I  have  been  the  one  to  trudge  the 
roads  and  hop  out  of  the  way  of  these  things  for  quite  a 
spell." 

She  sat  very  erect  as  the  car  rolled  into  the  broad  main 
avenue,  where  only  stray  couples  were  walking.  Her 
eyes  began  to  twinkle  and  gleam.  Suddenly  she  leaned 
forward  and  touched  the  driver  on  the  shoulder. 

"Young  man,"  she  said,  "just  you  toot  that  whistle 
suddenly  and  shave  close  enough  a  few  of  those  people 
so  that  I  can  see  how  I  look  when  I  leap  for  ragweed  and 
snake  fences." 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  461 

The  amazed  chauffeur  glanced  questioningly  at  Am- 
nion, who  slightly  nodded.  A  second  later  there  was  a 
quick  "honk!"  and  a  swerve  at  a  corner.  A  man  en- 
grossed in  conversation  grabbed  the  woman  to  whom  he 
was  talking  and  dashed  for  the  safety  of  a  lawn.  The 
woman  tripped  in  her  skirts,  and  as  she  fell  the  man  caught 
and  dragged  her.  Both  of  them  turned  red  faces  to  the 
car  and  berated  the  driver.  Mrs.  Comstock  laughed  in 
unrestrained  enjoyment.  Then  she  touched  the  chauf- 
feur again. 

"That's  enough,"  she  said.  "It  seems  a  mite  risky." 
A  minute  later  she  added  to  Ammon,  "If  only  they  had 
been  carrying  six  pounds  of  butter  and  ten  dozen  eggs 
apiece,  wouldn't  that  have  been  just  perfect?" 

Billy  had  wavered  between  Elnora  and  the  motor,  but 
his  loyal  little  soul  had  been  true  to  her,  so  the  walk  to 
the  cottage  began  with  him  at  her  side.  Long  before 
they  arrived  the  little  O'Mores  had  crowded  around  and 
captured  Billy,  and  he  was  giving  them  an  expurgated 
version  of  Mrs.  Comstock's  tales  of  Big  Foot  and  Adam 
Poe,  boasting  that  Uncle  Wesley  had  been  in  the  camps  of 
Me-shin-go-me-sia  and  knew  Wa-ca-co-nah  before  he 
got  religion  and  dressed  like  white  men;  while  the  mighty 
prowess  of  Snap  as  a  woodchuck  hunter  was  done  full 
justice.  When  they  reached  the  cottage  Ammon  took 
Billy  aside,  showed  him  the  emerald  ring  and  gravely 
asked  his  permission  to  marry  Elnora.  Billy  struggled 
to  be  just,  but  it  was  going  hard  with  him,  when  Alice,  who 
kept  close  enough  to  hear,  intervened. 


462  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Why  don't  you  let  them  get  married?"  she  asked. 
"You    are    much    too   small    for   her.       You    wait   for 


me 


I" 


Billy  studied  her  intently.  At  last  he  turned  to  Am- 
nion. "Aw,  well!  Go  on,  then!"  he  said  gruffly.  "I'll 
marry  Alice!" 

Alice  reached  her  hand.  "  If  you  got  that  settled  let's 
put  on  our  Indian  clothes,  get  the  boys,  and  go  to  the 
playhouse." 

"I  haven't  got  any  Indian  clothes,"  said  Billy  rue- 
fully. 

"Yes,  you  have,"  explained  Alice.  "Father  got  you 
some  coming  from  the  dock.  You  can  put  them  on  in  the 
playhouse.     The  boys  do." 

Billy  examined  the  playhouse  with  gleaming  eyes. 
Never  had  he  encountered  such  possibilities.  He  could 
see  a  hundred  amusing  things  to  try,  and  he  could  not 
decide  which  to  do  first.  The  most  immediate  attraction 
seemed  to  be  a  dead  pine,  held  perpendicularly  by  its 
fellows,  while  its  bark  had  decayed  and  fallen,  leaving  a 
bare,  smooth  trunk. 

"If  we  just  had  some  grease  that  would  make  the  dan- 
diest pole  to  play  Fourth  of  July  with!"  he  shouted. 

The  children  remembered  the  Fourth.  It  had  been 
great  fun. 

"Butter  is  grease.  There  is  plenty  in  the  'frigerator," 
suggested  Alice,  speeding  away. 

Billy  caught  the  cold  roll  and  began  to  rub  it  against 
the  tree  excitedly. 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  463 

"How  are  you  going  to  get  it  greased  to  the  top?" 
inquired  Terry. 

Billy's  face  lengthened.  "That's  so!"  he  said.  "The 
thing  is  to  begin  at  the  top  and  grease  down.  I'll  show 
you!" 

Billy  put  the  butter  in  his  handkerchief  and  took  the 
corners  between  his  teeth.  He  climbed  the  pole,  greasing 
it  as  he  slid  down. 

"Now,  I  got  to  try  first,"  he  said,  "because  I'm  the 
biggest  and  so  I  have  the  best  chance;  only  the  one  that 
goes  first  hasn't  hardly  any  chance  at  all,  because  he  has 
to  wipe  off  the  grease  on  himself,  so  the  others  can  get 
up  at  last.     See  ?  " 

"All  right!"  said  Terry.  "You  go  first  and  then  I  will, 
and  then  Alice.     Phew!     It's  slick.     He'll  never  get  up." 

Billy  wrestled  manfully,  and  when  he  was  exhausted 
he  boosted  Terry,  and  then  both  of  them  helped  Alice, 
to  whom  they  awarded  a  prize  of  her  own  doll.  As  they 
rested  Billy  remembered. 

"Do  your  folks  keep  cows?"  he  asked. 

"No,  we  buy  milk,"  said  Terry. 

"Gee!  Then  what  about  the  butter?  Maybe  your 
ma  needs  it  for  dinner!" 

"No,  she  don't!"  cried  Alice.  "There's  stacks  of  it! 
I  can  have  all  the  butter  I  want." 

"Well,  I'm  mighty  glad  of  it!"  said  Billy.  "I  didn't 
just  think.     I'm  afraid  we've  greased  our  clothes,  too." 

"That's  no  difference,"  said  Terry.  "We  can  play  what 
we  please  in  these  things." 


464  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"Well,  we  ought  to  be  all  dirty,  and  bloody,  and  have 
feathers  on  us  to  be  real  Indians,"  said  Billy. 

Alice  tried  a  handful  of  dirt  on  her  sleeve  and  it  streaked 
beautifully.  Instantly  all  of  them  began  smearing  them- 
selves. 

"If  we  only  had  feathers,"  lamented  Billy. 

Terry  disappeared  and  shortly  returned  from  the  garage 
with  a  feather  duster.  Billy  fell  on  it  with  a  shriek. 
Around  each  one's  head  he  firmly  tied  a  twisted  hand- 
kerchief, and  stuck  inside  it  a  row  of  stiffly  upstanding 
feathers. 

"Now,  if  we  just  only  had  some  pokeberries  to  paint 
us  red,  we'd  be  real,  for  sure  enough  Indians,  and  we 
could  go  on  the  warpath  and  light  all  the  other  tribes 
and  burn  a  lot  of  them  at  the  stake." 

Alice  sidled  up  to  him.  "Would  huckleberries  do?" 
she  asked  softly. 

"Yes!"  shouted  Terry,  wild  with  excitement.  "Any- 
thing that's  a  colour!" 

Alice  made  another  trip  to  the  refrigerator.  Billy 
crushed  the  berries  in  his  hands  and  smeared  and  streaked 
all  their  faces  liberally. 

"Now  are  we  ready?"  asked  Alice. 

Billy  collapsed.  "  I  forgot  the  ponies !  You  got  to  ride 
ponies  to  go  on  the  warpath!" 

"You  ain't  neither!"  contradicted  Terry.  "It's  the 
very  latest  style  to  go  on  the  warpath  in  a  motor.  Every- 
body does !  They  go  everywhere  in  them.  They  are  much 
faster  and  better  than  any  old  ponies." 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  465 

Billy  gave  one  genuine  whoop.  "Can  we  take  your 
motor?" 

Terry  hesitated. 

"I  suppose  you  are  too  little  to  run  it?"  said  Billy. 

"I  am  not!"  flashed  Terry.  "I  know  how  to  start  and 
stop  it,  and  I  drive  lots  for  Stephens.  It  is  hard  to  turn 
over  the  engine  when  you  start." 

"I'll  turn  it,"  volunteered  Billy.  "I'm  strong  as  any- 
thing." 

"Maybe  it  will  start  without.  If  Stephens  has  just 
been  running  it,  sometimes  it  will.     Come  on,  let's  try." 

Billy  straightened  up,  lifted  his  chin  and  cried,  "Houpe! 
Houpe!     Houpe!" 

The  little  O'Mores  stared  in  amazement. 

"Why  don't  you  come  on  and  whoop?"  demanded 
Billy.  "Don't  you  know  how?  You  are  great  Indians! 
You  got  to  whoop  before  you  go  on  the  warpath.  You 
ought  to  kill  a  bat,  too,  and  see  if  the  wind  is  right.  But 
maybe  the  engine  won't  run  if  we  wait  to  do  that.  You 
can  whoop,  anyway.     All  together  now!" 

They  did  whoop,  and  after  several  efforts  the  cry  sat- 
isfied Billy,  so  he  led  the  way  to  the  big  motor,  and  took 
the  front  seat  with  Terry.  Alice  and  Little  Brother  took 
the  back. 

"Will  it  go?"  asked  Billy,  "or  do  we  have  to  turn 
it?" 

"  It  will  go,"  said  Terry  as  the  machine  gently  slid  out 
into  the  avenue  and  started  under  his  guidance. 

"This  is  no  warpath!"  scoffed  Billy.     "We  got  to  go 


466  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

a  lot  faster  than  this,  and  we  got  to  whoop.  Alice,  why 
don't  you  whoop?" 

Alice  arose,  took  hold  of  the  seat  in  front  and  whooped. 

"If  I  open  the  throttle,  I  can't  squeeze  the  bulb  to 
scare  people  out  of  our  way,"  said  Terry.  "I  can't  steer 
and  squeeze,  too." 

"We'll  whoop  enough  to  get  them  out  of  the  way.  Go 
faster!"  urged  Billy. 

Billy  also  stood,  lifted  his  chin  and  whooped  like  the 
wildest  little  savage  that  ever  came  out  of  the  West. 
Alice  and  Little  Brother  added  their  voices,  and  when  he 
was  not  absorbed  with  the  steering  gear,  Terry  joined  in. 

"Faster!"  shouted  Billy. 

Intoxicated  with  the  speed  and  excitement,  Terry 
threw  the  throttle  wider  and  the  big  car  leaped  forward 
and  shot  down  the  avenue.  In  it  four  black,  feather- 
bedecked  children  whooped  in  wild  glee  until  suddenly 
Terry's  war  cry  changed  to  a  scream  of  panic. 

"The  lake  is  coming!" 

"Stop!"  cried  Billy.     "Stop!     Why  don't  you  stop?" 

Paralyzed  with  fear  Terry  clung  to  the  steering  gear 
and  the  car  sped  onward. 

"You  little  fool!  Why  don't  you  stop?"  screamed 
Billy,  catching  Terry's  arm.     "Tell  me  how  to  stop!" 

A  bicycle  shot  along  beside  them  and  Freckles  standing 
on  the  pedals  shouted,  "Pull  out  the  pin  in  that  little 
circle  at  your  feet!" 

Billy  fell  on  his  knees  and  tugged  and  the  pin  yielded 
at  last.     Just  as  the  wheels  struck  the  white  sand  the 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  467 

bicycle  sheered  close,  Freckles  caught  the  lever  and  with 
one  strong  shove  set  the  brake.  The  water  flew  as  the 
car  struck  Huron,  but  luckily  it  was  shallow  and  the  beach 
smooth.  Hub  deep  the  big  motor  stood  quivering  as 
Freckles  climbed  in  and  backed  it  to  dry  sand. 

Then  he  drew  a  deep  breath  and  stared  at  his  brood. 

"Terrence,  would  you  kindly  be  explaining?"  he  said 
at  last. 

Billy  looked  at  the  panting  little  figure  of  Terry. 

"I  guess  I  better,"  he  said.  "We  were  playing  Indians 
on  the  warpath,  and  we  hadn't  any  ponies,  and  Terry  said 
it  was  all  the  style  to  go  in  automobiles  now,  so  we " 

Freckles's  head  went  back,  and  he  did  some  whooping 
himself. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  realize  how  nearly  you  came  to  being 
four  drowned  children?"  he  said  gravely,  after  a  time. 

"Oh,  I  think  I  could  swim  enough  to  get  most  of  us 
out,"  said  Billy.     "Anyway,  we  need  washing." 

"You  do  indeed,"  said  Freckles.  "I  will  head  this 
\  procession  to  the  garage,  and  there  we  will  remove  the 
first  coat."  For  the  remainder  of  Billy's  visit  the  nurse, 
chauffeur,  and  every  servant  of  the  O'More  household 
had  something  of  importance  on  their  minds,  and  Billy's 
every  step  was  shadowed. 

"I  have  Billy's  consent,"  said  Philip  to  Elnora,  "and 
all  the  other  consent  you  have  stipulated.  Before  you 
think  of  something  more,  give  me  your  left  hand, 
please." 

Elnora  gave  it  gladly,  and  the  emerald  slipped  on  her 


468  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

finger.  Then  they  went  together  into  the  forest  to  tell 
each  other  all  about  it,  and  talk  it  oven 

"Have  you  seen  Edith?"  asked  Ammon. 

"No,"  answered  Elnora,  "but  she  must  be  here,  or  she 
may  have  seen  me  when  she  went  to  Petosky  a  few  days 
ago.  Her  people  have  a  cottage  over  on  the  bluff,  but 
the  Angel  never  told  me  until  to-day.  I  didn't  want  to 
make  that  trip,  but  the  folks  were  so  anxious  to  entertain 
me,  and  it  was  only  a  few  days  until  I  intended  to  let  you 
know  myself  where  I  was." 

"And  I  was  going  to  wait  just  that  long,  and  if  I  didn't 
hear  then  I  was  getting  ready  to  turn  over  the  country. 
I  can  scarcely  realize  yet  that  Edith  sent  me  that  tele- 
gram." 

"No  wonder!  It's  a  difficult  thing  to  believe.  I  can't 
express  how  I  feel  for  her." 

"Let  us  never  again  speak  of  it,"  said  Ammon.  "I 
came  nearer  feeling  sorry  for  her  last  night  than  I  have 
yet.  I  couldn't  sleep  on  that  boat  coming  over,  and  I 
couldn't  put  away  the  thought  of  what  sending  that  mes- 
sage cost  her.  I  never  would  have  believed  it  possible 
that  she  would  do  it.  But  it  is  done.  We  will  forget 
it." 

"I  scarcely  think  I  shall,"  said  Elnora.  "It  is  the  sort 
of  thing  I  like  to  remember.  How  suffering  must  have 
changed  her!  I  would  give  a  great  deal  to  bring  her 
peace." 

"Henderson  came  to  see  me  at  the  hospital  a  few  days 
ago.     He's  gone  a  pretty  wild  pace,  but  if  he  had  been 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  469 

held  from  youth  by  the  love  of  a  good  woman  he  might 
have  lived  differently.  There  are  things  about  him  one 
cannot  help  admiring." 

"I  think  he  loves  her,"  said  Elnora  softly. 

"He  does!  He  always  has!  He  never  made  any  se- 
cret of  it.  He  will  cut  in  now  and  do  his  level  best,  but 
he  told  me  that  he  thought  she  would  send  him  away. 
He  understands  her  thoroughly." 

Edith  Carr  did  not  understand  herself.  She  went  to 
her  room  after  her  good-bye  to  Henderson,  lay  on  her 
bed  and  tried  to  think  why  she  was  suffering  as  she  was. 

"It  is  all  my  selfishness,  my  unrestrained  temper,  my 
pride  in  my  looks,  my  ambition  to  be  first,"  she  said. 
"That  is  what  has  caused  this  trouble." 

Then  she  went  deeper. 

"How  does  it  happen  that  I  am  so  selfish,  that  I  never 
controlled  my  temper,  that  I  thought  beauty  and  social 
position  the  vital  things  of  life?"  she  muttered.  "I 
think  that  goes  a  little  past  me.  I  think  a  mother  who 
allows  a  child  to  grow  up  as  I  did,  who  educates  it  only 
for  the  frivolities  of  life,  has  a  share  in  that  child's  ending. 
I  think  my  mother  has  some  responsibility  in  this,"  Edith 
Carr  whispered  to  the  night.  "But  she  will  recognize 
none.  She  would  laugh  at  me  if  I  tried  to  tell  her  what 
I  have  suffered  and  the  bitter,  bitter  lesson  I  have  learned. 
No  one  really  cares  but  Hart.  I've  sent  him  away,  so 
there  is  no  one!     No  one!" 

Edith  pressed  her  fingers  cross  her  burning  eyes  and 
lay  still. 


47o  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"He  is  gone!"  she  whispered  at  last.  "He  would  go 
at  once.  He  would  not  see  me  again.  I  should  think  he 
never  would  want  to  see  me  any  more.  But  I  will  want 
to  see  him!  My  soul!  I  want  him  now!  I  want  him 
every  minute!  He  is  all  I  have.  And  I've  sent  him 
away!  Oh,  these  dreadful  days  to  come,  alone!  I  can't 
bear  it.  Hart!  Hart!"  she  cried  aloud.  "I  want  you! 
No  one  cares  but  you.  No  one  understands  but  you.  Oh, 
I  want  you!" 

She  sprang  from  her  bed  and  felt  her  way  to  her  desk. 

"Get  me  some  one  at  the  Henderson  cottage,"  she  said 
to  Central,  and  waited  shivering. 

"They  don't  answer." 

"They  are  there!  You  must  get  them.  Turn  on  the 
buzzer." 

After  a  time  the  sleepy  voice  of  Mrs.  Henderson  an- 
swered. 

"Has  Hart  gone?"  panted  Edith  Carr. 

"No!  He  came  in  late  and  began  to  talk  about  start- 
ing to  California.  He  hasn't  slept  in  weeks  to  amount  to 
anything.  I  put  him  to  bed.  There  is  time  enough  to 
start  to  California  when  he  wakens.  Edith,  what  are 
you  planning  to  do  next  with  that  boy  of  mine  ?  " 

"Will  you  tell  him  I  want  to  see  him  before  he  goes?" 

"Yes,  but  I  won't  wake  him." 

"I  don't  want  you  to.     Just  tell  him  in  the  morning." 

"Very  well." 

"You  will  be  sure?" 

"Sure!" 

Hart  was  not  gone.     Edith  fell  asleep.     She  arose  at 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  471 

noon  the  next  day,  took  a  cold  bath,  ate  her  breakfast, 
dressed  carefully,  and  leaving  word  that  she  had  gone  to 
the  forest,  she  walked  slowly  across  the  leaves.  It  was 
cool  and  quiet  there,  so  she  sat  where  she  could  see  him 
coming,  and  waited.     She  was  thinking  hard  and  fast. 

Henderson  came  swiftly  down  the  path.  A  long  sleep, 
food,  and  Edith's  message  had  done  him  good.  He  had 
dressed  in  new  light  flannels  that  were  becoming.  Edith 
arose  and  went  to  meet  him. 

"Let  us  walk  in  the  forest,"  she  said. 

They  passed  the  old  Catholic  graveyard,  and  went 
back  into  the  deepest  wood  of  the  Island.  Back  where  all 
shadows  were  green,  all  voices  of  humanity  ceased,  and 
there  was  no  sound  save  the  whispering  of  the  trees,  a 
few  bird  notes  and  squirrel  rustle.  There  Edith  seated 
herself  on  a  mossy  old  log,  and  Henderson  studied  her. 
He  could  detect  a  change.  She  was  still  pale  and  her 
eyes  tired,  but  the  dull,  strained  look  was  gone.  He 
wanted  to  hope,  but  he  did  not  dare.  Any  other  man 
would  have  forced  her  to  speak.  The  mighty  tenderness 
in  Henderson's  heart  shielded  her  in  every  way. 

"What  have  you  thought  of  that  you  wanted  yet, 
Edith?"  he  asked  lightly  as  he  stretched  himself  at  her 
feet. 

"You!" 

Henderson  lay  tense  and  very  still. 

"Well,  I  am  here!" 

"Thank  Heaven  for  that!" 

Henderson  sat  up  suddenly,  leaning  toward  her  with 


472  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

questioning  eyes.  Not  knowing  what  he  dared  say, 
afraid  of  the  hope  which  found  birth  in  his  heart,  he  tried 
to  shield  her  and  at  the  same  time  to  feel  his  way. 

"I  am  more  thankful  than  I  can  express  that  you  feel 
so,"  he  said.  "I  would  be  of  use,  of  comfort,  to  you  if 
I  knew  how,  Edith." 

"You  are  my  only  comfort,"  she  said.  "I  tried  to  send 
you  away.  I  thought  I  didn't  want  you.  I  thought  I 
couldn't  bear  the  sight  of  you,  because  of  what  you  have 
seen  me  suffer.  But  I  went  to  the  root  of  this  thing  last 
night,  Hart,  and  with  self  in  mind,  as  usual,  I  found  that 
I  could  not  live  without  you." 

Henderson  began  breathing  lightly.  He  was  afraid 
to  speak  or  move. 

"I  faced  the  fact  that  all  this  is  my  own  fault,"  con- 
tinued Edith,  "and  came  through  my  own  selfishness. 
Then  I  went  further  back  and  realized  that  I  am  as  I  was 
reared.  I  don't  want  to  blame  my  parents,  but  I  was 
carefully  trained  into  what  I  am.  If  Elnora  Comstock 
had  been  like  me,  Phil  would  have  come  back  to  me.  I 
can  see  how  selfish  I  look  to  him,  and  how  I  appear  to 
you,  if  you  would  admit  it." 

"Edith,"  said  Henderson  desperately,  "there  is  no  use 
to  try  to  deceive  you.  You  have  known  from  the  first  that 
I  found  you  wrong  in  this.  But  it's  the  first  time  in  your 
life  I  ever  thought  you  wrong  about  anything —  and  it's 
the  only  time  I  ever  will.  Understand,  I  think  you  the 
bravest,  most  beautiful  woman  on  earth,  the  one  most 
worth  loving." 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  473 

"I'm  not  to  be  considered  in  the  same  class  with  her." 

"I  don't  grant  that,  but  if  I  did,  you  must  remember 
how  I  compare  with  Phil.  He's  my  superior  at  every 
point.  There's  no  use  in  discussing  that.  You  wanted  to 
see  me,  Edith.     What  did  you  want?" 

"I  didn't  want  you  to  go  away." 

"Not  at  all?" 

"Not  at  all!  Not  ever!  Not  unless  you  take  me  with 
you,  Hart." 

She  slightly  extended  one  hand  to  him.  Henderson 
took  that  hand,  kissing  it  again  and  again. 

"Anything  you  want,  Edith,"  he  said  brokenly. 
"Just  as  you  wish  it.  Do  you  want  me  to  stay  here,  and 
go  on  as  we  have  been?" 

"Yes,  only  with  a  difference." 

"Can  you  tell  me,  Edith?" 

"First,  I  want  you  to  know  that  you  are  the  dearest 
thing  on  earth  to  me,  right  now.  I  would  give  up  every- 
thing else,  before  I  would  you.  I  can't  honestly  say  that 
I  love  you  with  the  love  you  deserve.  My  heart  is  too 
sore.  It's  too  soon  to  know.  But  I  love  you  some  way. 
You  are  necessary  to  me.  You  are  my  comfort,  my 
shield.  If  you  want  me,  as  you  know  me  to  be,  Hart,  you 
can  consider  me  yours.  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour  I 
will  try  to  be  as  you  would  have  me,  just  as  soon  as  I  can." 

Henderson  kissed  her  hand  passionately.  "Don't, 
Edith,"  he  begged.  "Don't  say  those  things.  I  can't 
bear  it.  I  understand.  Everything  will  come  right  in 
time.     Love  like  mine  must  bring  a  reward.     You  will 


474  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

love  me  some  day.     I  can  wait.     I  am  the  most  patient 
fellow." 

" But  I  must  say  it,"  cried  Edith.  "I  —  I  think,  Hart, 
that  I  have  been  on  the  wrong  road  to  find  happiness.  I 
planned  to  finish  life  as  I  started  it  with  Phil;  and  you  see 
how  glad  he  was  to  change.  He  wanted  the  other  sort  of 
girl  far  more  than  he  ever  wanted  me.  And  you,  Hart, 
honest,  now  —  I'll  know  if  you  don't  tell  me  the  truth! 
Would  you  rather  have  a  wife  as  I  planned  to  live  life 
with  Phil,  or  would  you  rather  have  her  as  Elnora  Corn- 
stock  intends  to  live  with  him?" 

"Edith!"  cried  the  man,  "Edith!" 

"Of  course,  you  can't  say  it  in  plain  English,"  said  the 
girl.  "You  are  far  too  chivalrous  for  that.  You  needn't 
say  anything.  I  am  answered.  If  you  could  have  your 
choice  you  wouldn't  have  a  society  wife,  either.  In  your 
heart  you'd  like  the  smaller  home  of  comfort,  the  further- 
ance of  your  ambitions,  the  palatable  meals  regularly 
served,  and  little  children  around  you.  I  am  sick  of  all 
we  have  grown  up  to,  Hart.  When  your  hour  of  trouble 
comes,  there  is  no  comfort  for  you.  I  am  tired  to  death. 
You  find  out  what  you  want  to  do,  and  be,  that  is  a  man's 
work  in  the  world,  and  I  will  plan  our  home,  with  no 
thought  save  your  comfort.  I'll  be  the  other  kind  of  a 
girl  as  fast  as  I  can  learn.  I  can't  correct  all  my  faults  in 
one  day,  but  I'll  change  as  rapidly  as  I  can." 

"God  knows,  I  will  be  different,  too,  Edith.  You  shall 
not  be  the  only  generous  one.  I  will  make  all  the  rest  of 
life  worthy  of  you.     I  will  change,  too!" 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  475 

"Don't  you  dare!"  said  Edith  Carr,  taking  his  head 
between  her  hands  and  holding  it  against  her  knees,  while 
the  tears  slid  down  her  cheeks.  "Don't  you  dare  change, 
you  big-hearted,  splendid  lover!  I  am  little  and  selfish. 
You  are  the  very  finest,  just  as  you  are!" 

Henderson  was  not  talking  then,  so  they  sat  through  a 
long  silence.  At  last  he  heard  Edith  draw  a  quick  breath, 
and  lifting  his  head  he  looked  where  she  pointed.  Up  a 
fern  stalk  climbed  a  curious  looking  object.  They 
watched  breathlessly.  By  lavender  feet  clung  a  big, 
pursy,  lavender-splotched,  yellow  body.  Yellow  and 
lavender  wings  began  to  expand  and  take  on  colour. 
Every  instant  great  beauty  became  more  apparent.  It 
was  one  of  those  double-brooded  freaks  which  do  occur 
on  rare  occasions,  or  merely  an  Eacles  Imperialis  moth 
that  in  the  cool  damp  northern  forest  had  failed  to  emerge 
in  June.  Edith  Carr  drew  back  with  a  long,  shivering 
breath.  Henderson  caught  her  hands  and  gripped  them 
firmly.  Steadily  she  looked  the  thought  of  her  heart 
into  his  eyes. 

"By  all  the  powers,  you  shall  not!"  swore  the  man. 
"You  have  done  enough.     I  will  smash  that  thing!" 

"Oh,  no,  you  won't!"  cried  the  girl,  clinging  to  his 
hands.  "I  am  not  big  enough  yet,  Hart,  but  before  I 
leave  this  forest  I  shall  have  grown  to  breadth  and 
strength  to  carry  that  to  her.  She  needs  two  of  each 
kind.    Phil  only  got  her  one!" 

"Edith,  I  can't  bear  it!  That's  not  demanded!  Let 
me  take  it!" 


476  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

"You  may  go  with  me.  I  know  where  the  O'Mores' 
cottage  is.     I  have  been  there  often." 

"I'll  say  you  sent  it!" 

"You  may  watch  me  deliver  it!" 

"Phil  may  be  there  by  now." 

"  I  hope  he  is !  I  should  like  him  to  see  me  do  one  decent 
thing  by  which  to  remember  me." 

"I  tell  you  that  is  not  necessary!" 

"'Not  necessary'?"  cried  the  girl,  her  great  eyes  shining. 
"Not  necessary?  Then  what  on  earth  is  the  thing  doing 
here?  I  just  have  boasted  that  I  would  change,  that  I 
would  be  like  her,  that  I  would  grow  bigger  and  broader. 
As  the  words  are  spoken  God  gives  me  the  opportunity  to 
prove  whether  I  am  sincere.  This  is  my  test.  Hart! 
Don't  you  see  it?  If  I  am  big  enough  to  carry  that  to  her, 
you  will  believe  that  there  is  some  good  in  me.  You  will 
not  be  loving  me  in  vain.  This  is  an  especial  Providence, 
man!  Be  my  strength!  Help  me,  as  you  always  have 
done!" 

Henderson  arose  and  shook  the  leaves  from  his  clothing. 
He  drew  Edith  Carr  to  her  feet  and  carefully  picked  the 
mosses  from  her  skirts.  He  went  down  to  the  water  and 
moistened  his  handkerchief  to  bathe  her  face. 

"Now  a  dust  of  powder,"  he  said  when  the  tears  were 
washed  away. 

From  a  tiny  book  Edith  tore  leaves  that  she  passed 
over  her  face. 

"All  gone!"  cried  Henderson,  critically  eying  her. 
"You  look  almost  half  as  lovely  as  you  really  are!" 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  477 

Edith  Carr  drew  a  wavering  breath.  She  stretched  one 
hand  to  him. 

"Hold  tight,  Hart!"  she  said.  "I  know  they  handle 
these  things,  but  I  would  quite  as  soon  touch  a  .snake." 

Henderson  clenched  his  teeth  and  held  steadily.  The 
moth  had  emerged  too  recently  to  be  troublesome.  It 
climbed  on  her  fingers  quietly  and  obligingly  clung  there 
without  moving.  So  hand  in  hand  they  went  down  the 
dark  forest  path.  But  when  they  came  to  the  avenue, 
the  first  person  they  met  paused  with  an  ejaculation  of 
wonder.  The  next  stopped  also,  and  every  one  following. 
They  could  make  little  progress  on  account  of  marvel- 
ling, interested  people.  A  strange  excitement  took  posses- 
sion of  Edith.     She  began  to  feel  proud  of  the  creature. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  said  to  Henderson,  "this  is  growing 
easier  every  step.  Its  clinging  is  not  disagreeable,  as  I 
thought  it  would  be.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  saving  it,  pro- 
tecting it.  I  am  proud  that  we  are  taking  it  to  be  put 
into  a  collection  or  a  book.  It  seems  like  doing  a  thing 
worth  while.  Oh,  Hart,  I  wish  we  could  work  together 
at  something  for  which  people  would  care  as  they  seem 
to  for  this.  Hear  what  they  say!  See  them  lift  their 
little  children  to  look  at  it!" 

"Edith,  if  you  don't  stop,"  said  Henderson,  "I  will 
take  you  in  my  arms,  and  kiss  the  face  half  off  you,  here 
on  the  avenue.     You  are  adorable!" 

"Don't  you  dare!"  laughed  Edith  Carr.  The  colour 
rushed  to  her  cheeks  and  a  new  light  leaped  in  her  eyes. 

"Oh,  Hart!"  she  cried.     "Let's  work!     Let's  do  some- 


478  A  GIRL  OF  THE  LIMBERLOST 

thing!  That's  the  way  she  makes  people  love  her  so. 
There's  the  place,  and,  thank  goodness,  there  is  a  crowd." 

"You  darling!"  whispered  Henderson  as  they  passed 
up  the  walk.  Her  face  was  rose-flushed  with  excitement 
and  her  eyes  shone. 

"Hello,  every  one!"  she  cried  as  she  came  on  the  wide 
veranda.  "Only  see  what  we  found  up  in  the  forest! 
We  thought  you  might  like  to  have  it  for  some  of  your  col- 
lections." 

She  held  out  the  moth  as  she  walked  straight  to  Elnora, 
who  arose  to  meet  her,  crying,  "How  perfectly  splendid! 
I  don't  even  know  how  to  begin  to  thank  you." 

Elnora  took  the  moth.  Edith  shook  hands  with  all 
of  them  and  asked  Philip  if  he  were  improving.  She  said 
a  few  polite  words  to  Freckles  and  the  Angel,  declined  to 
remain  on  account  of  an  engagement,  and  went  away, 
gracefully. 

"Well,  bully  for  her!"  said  Mrs.  Comstock.  "She's 
a  little  thoroughbred  after  all!" 

"That  was  a  mighty  big  thing  for  her  to  be  doing,'* 
said  Freckles  in  a  hushed  voice. 

"  If  you  knew  her  as  well  as  I  do,"  said  Philip  Ammon, 
"you  would  have  a  better  conception  of  what  that  cost." 

"It  was  a  terror!"  cried  the  Angel.  "I  never  could 
have  done  it." 

"'Never  could  have  done  it!'"  echoed  Freckles. 
"Why,  Angel,  dear,  that  is  the  one  thing  of  all  the  world 
you  would  have  done!" 

"I  have  to  take  care  of  this,"  faltered  Elnora,  hurrying 


PHILIP  FINDS  ELNORA  479 

for  the  door  to  hide  the  tears  which  were  rolling  down  her 
cheeks. 

"I  must  help,"  said  Ammon  disappearing  also.  "El- 
nora,"  he  called,  catching  up  with  her,  "take  me  where  I 
can  cry,  too.     Wasn't  she  great?" 

"Superb!"  exclaimed  Elnora.  "I  have  no  words.  I 
feel  so  humbled!" 

"So  do  I,"  said  Ammon.  "I  think  a  great  deed  like 
that  always  makes  one  feel  so.     Now  are  you  happy?" 

"Unspeakably  happy!"  answered  Elnora. 

THE    END 


KATE  DOUGLAS  WIGGIN'S 
STORIES  OF  PURE  DELIGHT 

Full   of  originality  and   humor,    kindliness   and  cbeer 

THE  OLD  PEABODY  PEW.    Large  Octavo.   Decorative 

text  pages,  printed  in  two  colors.    Illustrations  by  Alice 

Barber  Stephens. 

One  of  the  prettiest  romances  that  has  ever  come  from  this 
author's  pen  is  made  to  bloom  on  Christmas  Eve  in  the  sweet 
freshness  of  an  old  New  England  meeting  house. 

PENELOPE'S  PROGRESS.    Attractive  cover  design  in 

colors. 

Scotland  is  the  background  for  the  merry  doings  of  three  very 
clever  and  original  American  girls.  Their  adventures  in  adjusting 
themselves  to  the  Scot  and  his  land  are  full  of  humor. 

PENELOPE'S  IRISH  EXPERIENCES.  Uniform  in  style 
with  "Penelope's  Progress.'" 

The  trio  of  clever  girls  who  rambled  over  Scotland  cross  the  bor- 
der to  the  Emerald  Isle,  and  again  they  sharpen  their  wits  against 
new  conditions,  and  revel  in  the  land  of  laughter  and  wit. 

REBECCA  OF  SUNNYPROOK  FARM. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  studies  of  childhood — Rebecca's  artis- 
tic, unusual  and  quaintly  charming  qualities  stand  cut  midst  a  circle 
of  austere  New  Englanders,  The  stage  version  is  making  a  phe- 
nomenal dramatic  record. 

NEW  CHRONICLES  OF  REBECCA.  With  illustrations 

by  F.  C.  Yohn. 

Some  more  quaintly  amusing  chronicles  that  carry  Rebecca 
through  various  stages  to  her  eighteenth  birthday. 

ROSE   O'  THE  RIVER.     With  illustrations  by  George 

Wright. 

The  simple  story  of  Rose,  a  country  girl  and  Stephen  a  sturdy 
young  farmer,  The  girl's  fancy  for  a  city  man  interrupts  their  love 
and  merges  the  story  into  an  emotional  strain  where  the  reader  fol- 
lows the  events  with  rapt  attention. 

Guosset  &  Dunlap.  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York. 


TITLES   SELECTED  FROM 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP'S    LIST 

REALISTIC.  ENGAGING  PICTURES  OF  LIFE 


THE  GARDEN  OF  FATE.  By  Roy  Norton.  Illustrated 

by  Joseph  Clement  Coll. 

The  colorful  romance  of  an  American  girl  in  Morocco,  and 
of  a  beautiful  garden,  whose  beauty  and  traditions  of  strange 
subtle  happenings  were  closed  to  the  world  by  a  Sultan's  seal. 

THE  MAN  HIGHER  UP.  By  Henry  Russell  Miller. 
Full  page  vignette  illustrations  by  M.  Leone  Bracker. 
The  story  of  a  tenement  waif,  who  r&se  by  his  own  ingenuity 
to  the  office  of  mayor  of  his  native  city.  His  experiences 
while  "climbing,"  make  a  most  interesting  example  of  the 
possibilities  of  human  nature  to  rise  above  circumstances. 

THE  KEY  TO  YESTERDAY.      By  Charles  Neville 
Buck.    Illustrated  by  R.  Schabelitz. 

Robert  Saxon,  a  prominent  artist,  has  an  accident,  while  in 
Paris,  which  obliterates  his  memory,  and  the  only  clue  he  has 
to  his  former  life  is  a  rusty  key.  What  door  in  Paris  will  it 
unlock  ?    He  must  know  that  before  he  woos  the  girl  he  loves. 

THE  DANGER  TRAIL.  By  James  Oliver  Curwood. 
Illustrated  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 
The  danger  trail  is  over  the  snow-smothered  North.  A 
young  Chicago  engineer,  who  is  building  a  road  through  the 
Hudson  Bay  region,  is  involved  in  mystery,  and  is  led  into 
ambush  by  a  young  woman. 

THE  GAY  LORD  WARING.    By  Houghton  Townley. 

Illustrated  by  Will  Grefe. 
A  story  of  the  smart  hunting  set  in  England.    A  gay  young 
lord  wins  in  love  against  his  selfish  and  cowardly  brother  ana 
apparently  against  fate  itself. 

BY  INHERITANCE.    By  Octave  Thanet.    Illustrated 

by  Thomas  Fogarty.    Elaborate  wrapper  in  colors. 

A  wealthy  New  England  spinster  with  the  most  elaborate 

plans  for  the  education  of  the  negro  goes  to  visit  her  nephew 

in  Arkansas,  where  she  learns  the  needs  of  the  colored  race 

first  hand  and  begins  to  lose  her  theories. 

Grosset  &  Dunlap,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


GROSSET  &    DUNLAP'S 

DRAMATIZED  NOVELS 

Original,  sincere  and  courageous — often  amusing — the 
kind  that  are  making  theatrical  history. 

MADAME  X.  By  Alexandre  Bisson  and  J.  W.  McCon- 
aughy.  Illustrated  with  scenes  from  the  play. 
A  beautiful  Parisienne  became  an  outcast  because  her  hus- 
band would  not  forgive  an  error  of  her  youth.  Her  love  for 
her  son  is  the  great  final  influence  in  her  career.  A  tremen- 
dous dramatic  success. 

THE  GARDEN  OF  ALLAH.    By  Robert  Hichens. 

An  unconventional  English  woman  and  an  inscrutable 
stranger  meet  and  love  in  an  oasis  of  the  Sahara.  Staged 
this  season  with  magnificent  cast  and  gorgeous  properties. 

THE  PRINCE  OF  INDIA.    By  Lew.  Wallace. 

A  glowing  romance  of  the  Byzantine  Empire,  presenting 
with  extraordinary  power  the  siege  of  Constantinople,  and 
lighting  its  tragedy  with  the  warm  underflow  of  an  Oriental 
romance.    As  a  play  it  is  a  great  dramatic  spectacle. 

TESS  OF    THE    STORM    COUNTRY.     By  Grace 

Miller  White.     Illust.  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy. 
A  girl  from  the  dregs  of  society,  loves  a  young  Cornell  Uni- 
versity student,  and  it  works  startling  changes  in  her  life  and 
the  lives  of  those  about  her.    The  dramatic  version  is  one  of 
the  sensations  of  the  season. 

YOUNG  WALLINGFORD.  By  George  Randolph 
Chester.  Illust.  by  F.  R.  Gruger  and  Henry  Raleigh. 
A  series  of  clever  swindles  conducted  by  a  cheerful  young 
man,  each  of  which  is  just  on  the  safe  side  of  a  State's  prison 
offence.  As  "Get-Rich-Quick  Wallingford,"  it  is  probably 
the  most  amusing  expose  of  money  manipulation  ever  seen 
on  the  stage. 

THE  INTRUSION  OF  JIMMY.    By  P.  G.  Wode- 
house.    Illustrations  by  Will  Grefe. 

Social  and  club  life  in  London  and  New  York,  an  amateur 
burglary  adventure  and  a  love  story.  Dramatized  under  the 
title  of  "A  Gentleman  of  Leisure,''  it  furnishes  hours  of 
laughter  to  the  play-goers. 

Grosset  &  Dunlap,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 


A  FEW  OF 

GROSSET  &   DUNLAP'S 
Great  Books  at  Little  Prices 

HAPPY  HAWKINS.  By  Robert  Alexander  Wason.  Iflus- 
trated  by  Howard  Giles. 
A  ranch  and  cowboy  novel.  Happy  Hawkins  tells  his  own  story 
with  such  a  fine  capacity  for  knowing  how  tc  do  it  and  with  so  much 
humor  that  the  reader's  interest  is  held  in  surprise,  then  admiration 
and  at  last  in  positive  affection. 

COMRADES.  By  Thomas  Dixon,  Jr.  Illustrated  by  C.  D. 
Williams. 

The  locale  of  this  story  is  in  California,  where  a  few  socialists 
establish  a  little  community. 

The  author  leads  the  little  band  along  the  path  of  disillusion* 
ment,  and  gives  some  brilliant  flashes  of  light  on  one  side  of  an 
important  question. 

TONO-BUNGAY.    By  Herbert  George  Wells. 

The  hero  of  this  novel  is  a  young  man  who,  through  hard  work, 
earns  a  scholarship  and  goes  to  London. 

Written  with  a  frankness  verging  on  Rousseau's,  Mr.  Wells  still 
uses  rare  discrimination  and  the  border  line  of  propriety  is  never 
crossed.    An  entertaining  book  with  both  a  story  and  a  moral,  and 
without  a  dull  page— Mr.  Wells's  most  notable  achievement. 
A  HUSBAND  BY  PROXY.    By  Jack  Steele. 

A  young  criminologist,  but  recently  arrived  in  New  York  csty,- 
is  drawn  into  a  mystery,  partly  through  financial  need  and  partly 
through  his  interest  in  a  beautiful  woman,  who  seems  at  times  the 
simplest  child  and  again  a  perfect  mistress  of  intrigue.  A  baffling 
detective  story. 

LIKE  ANOTHER  HELEN.  By  George  Horton.  Illus- 
trated by  C.  M.  Relyea. 

Mr.  Horton  s  powerful  romance  stands  in  a  new  field  and  brings 
an  almost  unknown  world  in  reality  before  the  reader — the  world 
of  conflict  between  Greek  and  Turk  on  the  Island  of  Crete.  The 
*•  Helen  "  of  the  story  is  a  Greek,  beautiful,  desolate,  defiant — pure 
as  snow. 

;     There  is  a  certain  new  force  about  the  story,  a  kind  of  master- 
craftsmanship  and  mental  dominance  that  holds  the  reader. 
THE    MASTER    OF    APPLEBY.     By   Francis    Lynde. 
4         Illustrated  by  T.  de  Thulstrup. 

"A  novel  tale  concerning  itself  in  part  with  the  great  struggle  in 
the  two  Carolinas,  but  chiefly  with  the  adventures  therein  of  two 
gentlemen  who  loved  one  and  the  same  lady. 

A  strong,  masculine  and  persuasive  story. 
'A  MODERN  MADONNA.    By  Caroline  Abbot  Stanley. 

A  story  of  American  life,  founded  on  facts  as  they  existed  some 

[ears  ago  in  the  District  of  Columbia.  The  theme  is  the  maternal 
ove  and  splendid  courage  of  a  woman. 


T 

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Grosset  &  Dunlap,  526  West  26th  St.,  New  York 

hi  ■  i  ■  i      i .  ,  • 


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'  k  Re-issues  of  the  great  literary  successes  of  the  time.  Library 
size.  Printed  on  excellent  paper — most  of  them  with  illustra- 
tions of  marked  beauty — and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth. 
Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid. 

*— — —  i 

BARBARA  WINSLOW,  REBEL.  By  Elizabetfi  Ellis. 
With  illustrations  by  John  Rae,  and  colored  inlay  cover. 
The  following,  taken  from  story,  will  best  describe  the  heioine: 
A  TOAST:  "  To  the  bravest  comrade  in  misfortune,  the  sweetest 
Companion  in  peace  and  at  all  times  the  most  courageous  of  women." 
•^-Barbara  Winslaw.  "  A  romantic  story,  buoyant,  eventful,  and  in 
matters  of  love  exactly  what  the  heart  could  desire. " — New  York  Sun. 

SUSAN.  By  Ernest  Oldmeadow.  With  a  color  frontispiece 
by  Frank  Haviland.  Medalion  in  color  on  front  cover. 
Lord  Ruddington  falls  helplessly  in  love  with  Miss  Langley,  whom 
he  sees  in  one  of  her  walks  accompanied  by  her  maid,  SHsan. 
Through  a  misapprehension  of  personalities  his  lordship  addresses 
a  love  missive  to  the  maid.  Susan  accepts  in  perfect  good  faith, 
and  an  epistolary  love-making  goes  on  till  they  are  disillusioned.  It 
naturally  makes  a  droll  and  delightful  little  comedy ;  and  >s  a  story 
that  is  particularly  clever  in  the  telling. 

WHEN  PATTY  WENT  TO  COLLEGE.  By  Jean  Web- 
•_     ster.    With  illustrations  by  C.  D.  Williams. 

"The  book  is  a  treasure." — Chicago  Daily  News.  '-Bright, 
whimsical,  and  thoroughly  entertaining. " — Buffalo  Express.  ■  One 
of  the  best  stories  of  life  in  a  girl's  college  that  has  ever  been  writ- 
ten."— N.  Y.  Press.  "  To  any  woman  who  has  enjoyed  the  pleasures 
of  a  college  life  this  book  cannot  fail  to  bring  back  many  sweet  recol- 
lections ;  and  to  those  who  have  not  been  to  college  the  wit,  lightness, 
and  charm  of  Patty  are  sure  to  be  no  less  delightful.  "—Public  Opinion. 

THE  MASQUERADER.  By  Katherine  Cecil  Thurston. 
With  illustrations  by  Clarence  F.  Underwood. 
"  You  can't  drop  it  till  you  have  turned  the  last  page." — Cleveland 
Leader.  "  Its  very  audacity  of  motive,  of  execution,  of  solution,  al- 
most takes  one's  breath  away.  The  boldness  of  its  denouement 
is  sublime." — Boston  Transcript.  "  The  literary  hit  of  a  generation. 
The  best  of  it  is  the  story  deserves  all  its  success.  A  masterly  story." 
— St.  Louis  Dispatch.  "  The  story  is  ingeniously  told,  and  cleverly 
constructed."—  The  Dial. 

THE  GAMBLER.  By  Katherine  Cecil  Thurston,  With 
illustrations  by  John  Campbell. 
"  Tells  of  a  high  strung  young  Irish  woman  who  has  a  passion  for 
gambling,  inherited  from  a  long  line  of  sporting  ancestors.  She  has 
a  high  sense  of  honor,  too,  and  that  causes  complications.  She  is  a 
very  human,  lovable  character,  and  love  saves  her." — N.  Y.  Times. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  -  NEW  YORK 


FAMOUS  COPYRIGHT  BOOKS 
IN  POPULAR    PRICED    EDITIONS 

Re-issues  of  the  great  literary  successes  of  the  time.  Library 
size.  Printed  on  excellent  paper — most  of  them  with  illustra- 
tions of  marked  beauty — and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth. 
Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid. 

THE   FAIR   GOD  ;  OR,  THE  LAST   OF   THE  TZINS. 

By  Lew  Wallace.    With  illustrations  by  Eric  Pape. 

"The  story  tells  of  the  love  of  a  native  princess  for  Alvarado,  and  it 
is  worked  out  with  all  of  Wallace's  skill  *  *  *  it  gives  a  fine  pic- 
ture of  the  heroism  of  the  Spanish  conquerors  and  of  the  culture  and 
nobility  of  the  Aztecs." — New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

"  Ben  Hur  sold  enormously,  but  The  Fair  God  was  the  best  of  the 
General's  stories — a  powerful  and  romantic  treatment  of  the  defeat  of 
Montezuma  by  Cortes." — AthencBum. 

THE  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  KANSAS.    By  Louis  Tracy. 

A  story  of  love  and  the  salt  sea — of  a  helpless  ship  whirled  into  the 
hands  of  cannibal  Fuegians — of  desperate  fighting  and  tender  romance, 
enhanced  by  the  art  of  a  master  of  story  telling  who  describes  with 
his  wonted  felicity  and  power  of  holding  the  reader's  attention  *  *  * 
filled  with  the  swing  of  adventure. 

A  MIDNIGHT  GUEST.    A  Detective  Story.   By  Fred  M. 
White.  With  a  frontispiece. 

The  scene  of  the  story  centers  in  London  and  Italy.  The  book  is 
skilfully  written  and  makes  one  of  the  most  baffling,  mystifying,  ex- 
citing detective  stories  ever  written — cleverly  keeping  the  suspense 
and  mystery  intact  until  the  surprising  discoveries  which  precede 
the  end. 

THE  HONOUR  OF  SAVELLI.  A  Romance.  By  S.  Levett 
Yeats.    With  cover  and  wrapper  in  four  colors. 
Those  who  enjoyed  Stanley  Weyman's  A  Gentleman  of  France 

will  be  engrossed  and  captivated  by  this  delightful  romance  of  Italian 
history.  It  is  replete  with  exciting  episodes,  hair-breath  escapes, 
magnificent  sword-play,  and  deals  with  the  agitating  times  in  Italian 
history  when  Alexander  II  was  Pope  and  the  famous  and  infamous 
Borgias  were  tottering  to  their  fall. 

SISTER  CARRIE.  By  Theodore  Drieser.  With  a  frontis- 
piece, and  wrapper  in  color. 
In  all  fiction  there  is  probably  no  more  graphic  and  poignant  study 
of  the  way  in  which  man  loses  his  grip  onlif  e, lets  his  pride,  his  cour- 
age, his  self-respect  slip  from  him,  and,  finally,  even  ceases  to  struggle 
in  the  mire  that  has  engulfed  him.  *  *  *  There  is  more  tonic  val  ■ 
ue  in  Sister  Carrie  than  in  a  whole  shelfful  of  sermons. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  ="~~   NEW  YORK 


FAMOUS   COPYRIGHT    BOOKS 
IN  POPULAR  PRICED  EDITIONS 

Re-issues  of  the  great  literary  successes  of  the  time.  Library 
size.  Printed  on  excellent  paper — most  of  them  with  illustra- 
tions of  marked  beauty — and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth. 
Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid. 

A  SIX-CYLINDER  COURTSHIP,  By  Edw.  Salisbury  Field 

^  With  a  color  frontispiece  by  Harrison  Fisher,  and  Dlustra- 

tions  by  Clarence  F.  Underwood,  decorated  pages  and  end 

sheets.    Harrison  Fisher  head  in  colors  on  cover.    Boxed. 

A  story  of  cleverness.    It  is  a  jolly  good  romance  of  love  at 

first  sight  that  will  be  read  with  undoubted  pleasure.    Autoinobil« 

ing  figures  in  the  story  which  is  told  with  light,  bright  touches* 

while  a  happy  gift  o.'  humor  permeates  it  all. 

"  The  book  is  full  of  interesting  folks.  The  patois  of  the  garage  is 
used  with  full  comic  and  realistic  effect,  and  eff ervescently,  cul- 
minating in  the  usual  happy  finish." — St.  Louis  Mirror. 

AT  THEFOOTOFTHERAINBOW, 

By  Gene  Stratton-Porter  Author  of  "  FRECKLES  * 

With  illustrations  in  color  by  Oliver  Kemp,  decorations  by 
Ralph  Fletcher  Seymour  and  inlay  cover  in  colors. 
The  story  is  one  of  devoted  friendship,  and  tender  self-sacrific- 
ing love;  the  friendship  that  gives  freely  without  return,  and  the 
love  that  seeks  first  the  happiness  of  the  object  The  novel  i*< 
brimful  of  the  most  beautiful  word  painting  of  nature  and  it?; 
pathos  and  tender  sentiment  will  endear  it  to  all. 

JUDITH  OF  THE  CUMBERLANDS,  By  Alice  MacGowas 

With  illustrations  in  colors,  and  inlay  cover  by  George  Wright: 
No  one  can  fail  to  enjoy  this  moving  tale  with  its  lovely  and  ar 
dent  heroine,  its  frank,  fearless  hero,  its  glowing  love  passages, 
and  its  variety  of  characters,  captivating  or  engaging  humorous 
or  saturnine,  villains,  rascals,  and  men  of  good  will.  A  tale  strong; 
and  interesting  in  plot,  faithful  and  vivid  as  a  picture  of  wild 
mountain  life,  and  in  its  characterization  full  of  warmth  and  glow 

A  MILLION  A  MINUTE,  By  Hucan  Douglas 

With  illustrations  by  Will  Gref  e. 
Ha3  the  catchiest  of  titles,  and  it  is  a  ripping  good  tale  from 
Chapter  I  to  Finis — no  weighty  problems  to  Be  solved,  but  just  a 
fine  running  story,  full  of  exciting  incidents,  that  never  seemed 
strained  or  improbable.  It  is  a  dainty  love  yarn  involving  three 
men  and  a  girl.    There  is  not  a  dull  or  trite  situation  in  the  book. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,     -      »      NEW  YORK 


FAMOUS  COPYRIGHT    BOOKS 
IN   POPULAR   PRICED    EDITIONS 

Re-issues  of  the  greatliterary  successes  of  the  time.  Library 
size.  Printed  on  excellent  paper — most  of  them  with  illustra- 
tions of  marked  beauty — and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth. 
Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid. 

BEVERLY  OF  GRAUSTARK.  By  George  Barr  McCut- 
cheon.     With  Color  Frontispiece  and  other  illustrations 

a  by  Harrison  Fisher.  Beautiful  inlay  picture  in  colors  of 
Beverly  on  the  cover. 

"  The  most  fascinating,  engrossing  and  picturesque  of  the  season's 
novels. " — Boston  Herald.  "  '  Beverly '  is  altogether  charming — al. 
most  living  flesh  and  blood.'"— -Louisville  Times.  "Better  than 
'  Graustark  '," — Mail  and  Express.  "  A  sequel  quite  as  impossible 
as  '  Graustark '  and  quite  as  entertaining." — Bookman.  "  A  charm* 
ing  love  story  well  told."— Boston  Transcript, 

HALF  A  ROGUE.  By  Harold  MacGrath.  With  illustra. 
tions  and  inlay  cover  picture  by  Harrison  Fisher, 
"  Here  are  dexterity  of  plot,  glancing  play  at  witty  talk,  characters 
really  human  and  humanly  real,  spirit  and  gladness,  freshness  and 
quick  movement.  '  Half  a  Rogue '  is  as  brisk  as  a  horseback  ride  on 
a  glorious  morning.  It  is  as  varied  as  an  April  day.  It  is  as  charming 
as  two  most  charming  girls  can  make  it.  Love  and  honor  and  suc= 
cess  and  all  the  great  things  worth  fighting  for  and  living  for  the  in« 
volved  in  '  Half  a  Rogue.'  "—Phila.  Press. 

THE  GIRL  FROM  TIM'S  PLACE.  By  Charles  Clark 
Munn.  With  illustrations  by  Frank  T.  Merrill 
"  Figuring  in  the  pages  of  this  story  there  are  several  strong  char« 
acters.  Typical  New  England  folk  and  an  especially  sturdy  one,  old 
Cy  Walker,  through  whose  instrumentality  Chip  comes  to  happiness 
and  fortune.  There  is  a  chain  of  comedy,  tragedy,  pathos  and  love, 
which  makes  a  dramatic  story. " — Boston  Herald. 

THE  LION  AND  THE  MOUSE.   A  story  of  American  Life. 

By  Charles  Klein,  and  Arthur  Hornblow.      With  iliustra* 

tions  by  Stuart  Travis,  and  Scenes  from  the  Play. 

The  novel  duplicated  the  success  of  the  play;  in  fact  the  book  is 

greater  than  the  play.    A  portentous  clash  of  dominant  personalties 

that  form  the  essence  of  the  play  are  necessarily  touched  upon  bu4 

briefly  in  the  short  space  of  four  acts.     All  this  is  narrated  in  the 

novel  with  a  wealth  of  fascinating  and  absorbing  detail,  making  it  one 

of  the  most  powerfully  written  and  exciting  works  of  fiction  given  to 

the  world  in  years.  >" 

■  mil  in  m—  — im  — — n  iiinHiMim  ■iiiiimiin  iiiii  m  ww— — 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,      -      NEW  YORK 


FAMOUS  COPYRIGHT  BOOKS 
IN   POPULAR    PRICED    EDITIONS 

Re-issues  of  the  great  literary  successes  of  the  time.  Library 
size.  Printed  on  excellent  paper — most  of  them  with  illustra- 
tions of  marked  beauty — and  handsomely  bound  in  cloth. 
Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid.  , 

DARREL  OF  THE  BLESSED  ISLES.       By  Irving  Bach- 

eller.  With  illustrations  by  Arthur  Keller. 
"Darrel,  the  clock  tinker,  is  a  wit,  philosopher,  and  man  of  mystery. 
Learned,  strong,  kindly,  dignified,  he  towers  like  a  giant  above  the 
people  among  whom  he  lives.  It  is  another  tale  of  the  North  Coun- 
try full  of  the  odor  cf  wood  and  field.  Wit,  humor,  pathos  and  high 
thinking  are  in  this  book." — Boston  Transcript. 
D'RI  AND  I :    A  Tale  of  Daring  Deeds  in  the  Second  War 

with  the  British.    Being  the  Memoirs  of  Colonel  Ramon 

Bell,  U.  S.  A.    By  Irving  Bacheller.    With  illustrations  by 

F.CYohn. 
M  Mr.  Bacheller  is  admirable  alike  in  his  scenes  of  peace  and  war. 
D'ri,  a  mighty  hunter,  has  the  same  dry  humor  as  Uncle  Eb.  Ha 
fights  mafrmncently  on  the  '  Lawrence,'  and  was  among  the  wounded 
when  Pery  went  to  the  '  Niagara.'  As  a  romance  of  early  American 
history  it  is  great  for  the  enthusiasm  it  creates." — New  York  Times. 

EBEN  HOLDEN :  A  Tale  of  the  North  Country.  By  Irving 
Bacheller. 
"  As  pure  as  water  and  as  good  as  bread,"  says  Mr.  Howells.  "Read 
1  Eben  Holden  '"is  the  advice  of  Margaret  Sangster.  "  It  is  a  forest- 
scented,  fresh-aired,  bracing  and  wholly  American  story  of  country 
and  town  life.  *  *  *  If  in  the  far  iuture  our  successors  wish  to 
know  what  were  the  real  life  and  atmosphere  in  which  the  country 
folk  that  saved  this  nation  grew,  loved,  wrought  and  had  their  being, 
they  must  go  back  to  such  true  and  zestful  and  poetic  tales  of 'fiction* 
as  '  Eben  Holden,'  "  says  Edmund  Clarence  Stedman. 

SILAS  STRONG:  Emperor  of  the  Woods.  By  Irving  Bach- 
eller. With  a  frontispiece. 
"A  modern  Leatherstocking.  Brings  the  city  dweller  the  aroma  ot 
the  pine  and  the  music  of  the  wind  in  its  branches— an  epic  poem 
*  *  *  forest-scented,  fresh-aired,  and  wholly  American.  A  stronger 
character  than  Eben  Holden." — Chicago  Record-Herald. 

VERGILIUS:  A  Tale  of  the  Coming  of  Christ.  By  Irving 
Bacheller. 

A  thrilling  and  beautiful  story  of  two  young  Roman  patricians  whose 
great  and  perilous  love  in  the  reign  of  Augustus  leads  them  through 
the  momentous,  exciting  events  that  marked  the  year  just  preceding 
the  birth  of  Christ. 

Splendid  character  studies  of  the  Emperor  Augustus,  of  Herod  and 
his  degenerate  sou,  Antipater,  and  of  his  daughter  "the  incomparable" 
Salome,    A  great  '  riumph  in  the  art  of  historical  portrait  painting. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP^     ~~^~-      NEW  YORK 


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handsomely  bound  in  cloth.    Price,  75  cents  a  volume,  postpaid. 


THE  CATTLE  BARON'S  DAUGHTER.    A  Novel.  By  HarolA 
Bindloss.     With  illustrations  by  David  Ericson. 

A  story  of  the  fight  for  the  cattle-ranges  of  the  West.  Intense  in- 
terest is  aroused  by  its  pictures  of  life  in  the  cattle  country  at  that 
critical  moment  of  transition  when  the  great  tracts  of  land  used  for 
grazing  were  taken  up  by  the  incoming  homesteaders,  with  the  in- 
evitable result  of  fierce  contest,  of  passionate  emotion  on  both  sides, 
and  of  final  triumph  of  the  inevitable  tendency  of  the  times. 

WINSTON  OF  THE  PRAIRIE.    With  illustrations  in  color  by 
W.  Herbert  Dunton. 

A  man  of  upright  character,  young  and  clean,  but  badly  worsted 
in  the  battle  of  life,  consents  as  a  desperate  resort  to  impersonate  for 
a  period  a  man  of  his  own  age — scoundrelly  in  character  but  of  an 
ansto  ratic  and  moneyed  family.  The  better  man  finds  himself  barred 
from  esuming  his  old  name.  How,  coming  into  the  other  man's  pos- 
sessions, he  wins  the  respect  of  all  men,  and  the  love  of  a  fastidious, 
delicately  nurtured  girl,  is  the  thread  upon  which  the  story  hangs.  It 
is  one  of  the  best  novels  of  the  West  that  has  appeared  for  years. 

THAT  MAINWARING  AFFAIR.      By  A.  Maynard  Barbour. 
With  illustrations  by  E.  Plaisted  Abbott. 

A  novel  with  a  most  intricate  and  carefully  unraveled  plot.  A 
naturally  probable  and  excellently  developed  story  and  the  reader 
will  follow  the  fortunes  of  each  character  with  unabating  interest 
*  *  *  the  interest  is  keen  at  the  close  of  the  first  chapter  and  in- 
creases to  the  end. 

AT  THE  TIME  APPOINTED.    With  a  frontispiece  in  color® 
by  J.  H.  Marchand. 

The  fortunes  of  a  young  mining  engineer  who  through  an  accident 
loses  his  memory  and  identity.  In  his  new  character  and  under  his 
new  name,  the  hero  lives  a  new  life  of  struggle  [and  adventure.  The 
volume  will  be  found  highly  entertaining  by  those  who  appreciate  a 
thoroughly  good  story. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,         -         -         New  York 


